Brave is a Matter of Opinion
by manga.geek.3
Summary: "Lady, you should probably let me go, otherwise things could get ugly." Her smile in response was a little too creepy for Ed's liking. "Is that a promise?" After a fight with Alphonse, Ed has once again been kidnapped. Rated M for torture and abuse. Will have parental!Roy/Ed and some brotherly fluff later on
1. Chapter 1

**Hey Guys! .3 here. I've finally decided to come out with another story, and this one is _not_ a one-shot, two-shot, or even three-shot. It's gonna be a story. w00t! This story is a request by one of my reviewers and I must thank them for it as the plot idea has come easily to me. :D **

**Just to reiterate, I am rating this story M as the contents will be dealing with some harsh themes; some of which I try to go into detail about. So uh, if you have a hard time reading that, you might not want to start this story. It won't be so bad in the later half of the story though!**

 **Also, this story will have lots of brotherly fluff as well as parental!Roy/Ed stuff. Yay!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own FMA. If I did, well... I'd be pretty happy that I no longer had to study so ridiculously hard to learn Japanese xD**

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Chapter 1

Ed woke with a start, beads of sweat cascading his forehead. Another nightmare had reared its ugly head, this time in the form of a demonic Al accosting him with threats of never forgiving him again for killing their mom and turning his once precious body into an apathetic suit of armor. On top of that he could faintly hears cries of "why" in the background of the dream, his sleeping self instantaneously recognizing them to be Nina with the voice of her chimera self, and his mother, though slightly less human.

A glance out the window told Ed that it was still the middle of the night. A sigh of relief escaped his lips to know that he didn't have to leave the confines of his room just yet. The air was beginning to turn cold, which made his ports all the more achy. Not to mention, once winter hit, they tended to be constantly cold, unless he meandered into a particularly warm room for a decent amount of time. The military dorms could hardly be considered particularly warm, however, as the temperature seemed to be set at a constant seventy-two degrees Fahrenheit. Warm but an undertone of cold in the air.

"Ed?" Came a metallic voice in the darkness, "you alright?" Tired, golden eyes turned towards the voice, barely able to make out a shape in the blackness. The moon must've had a bad dream too, if it's hiding behind clouds, Ed mused,

"Yeah, Al, I'm fine." Unexpectedly, Ed's voice cracked, as if it hadn't been used in decades.

"Brother…" Alphonse began, his voice relaying his worry in that one simple word.

"Don't worry about it, Al. It was just a dream."

"Yeah, but it seems to be occurring more often, lately."

"I told you, Al. It's nothing to worry about." Alphonse made a noise of exasperation, and Ed tensed up for a talk that they couldn't seem to get over.

"Brother, you should talk about it! I know that mission-"

"Alphonse, just let it rest!" Ed snapped, laying back down against the bed, turning to face the wall it was set against, thus blocking out his brother - a silent indication that the conversation was over.

The mission they'd returned from just a week previous was one that hit closer to home then Ed led Alphonse to believe. A perfect picture of blame from one brother to the other. A lavish fight, precious items stolen, a gun pulled, though no one seriously injured. When awake, Ed couldn't block out the sounds of the one brother yelling at the other, blaming him for past mistakes. When asleep, those yells turned into Alphonse, accusing Ed of purposely damaging the both of them. Ed couldn't bare the reality of those words.

Edward inwardly laughed at himself. He claimed to no longer be a kid, yet five years had passed and he still couldn't stop his heart from clenching in pain at the mere thought of Alphonse hating him. What kind of adult was he, if he couldn't handle the mere idea of something that was yet to be proven?

The rest of the night, Ed tossed and turned, sleep evading him ever so gleefully. When the sun peaked over the horizon, barely giving itself light (whether because of the rainy day this turned out to be or just that it was early in the morning, he didn't give it much thought,) Ed could no longer stand to lay in the bed a moment longer. If luck was on his side, the Colonel would be in the office, with another mission for the brother's to take.

Throwing feet over the edge of the bed, Ed quickly put clothes on, before his resolve to simply mope around the dorm became too enticing.

"Brother, where are you going? The sun has barely come up."

"I'm going to see if Colonel Bastard has another mission for us to take. Or maybe any leads on the philosopher's stone." Alphonse sighed, knowing when his brother got an idea in his head, he could hardly be talked out of it.

"Ed, you should wait a few more days. Get some sleep. You could use it. Maybe go to a doctor and get some sleeping pills or something."

"Like hell I'm going to go see a doctor, Al. You know that. Besides, I don't need any pills."

"Being in denial doesn't mean you don't need it any less," Al retorted.

"Whatever, Alphonse. I'll be back soon. Hopefully with a mission to take." Ed rolled his eyes, irritation on the surface of them. It didn't happen often, but sometimes Ed wished his brother would butt out of his emotional hardships. He didn't need to be treated like a baby. Except, as always, once Ed shut the door just a little bit harder than he meant, guilt bubbled to the surface. His irritation wasn't really directed towards Alphonse, he just happened to be a good outlet at that moment. With another sigh that Ed felt he'd given for the umpteenth time that night, he walked towards the exit of the dorms, massaging the bridge of his nose.

* * *

Edward wasn't the only one to give out an exasperated sigh in irritation. If Alphonse could wince, he definitely would have done so after the small slam of the door announced Ed's departure.

Sometimes, Alphonse just couldn't understand why his brother was so stubborn. Both of them had been through a traumatic event at an unquestionably young age, the only difference being that Alphonse was unable to sleep, thereby nullifying the effects of a nightmare, and bags under his eyes; of which Edward was currently displaying at an increasingly noticeable rate.

If he could frown, there would be a big one on his face. The last mission they had been on really wasn't that rough of a mission. In fact, it happened to be one of the easier ones, though rather annoying due to the brothers being unable to quit fighting in each other's presence. The only reason Alphonse figured that the mission was responsible for Ed's lack of sleep was because Ed had had more frequent nightmares since their return, and that had been almost an entire week ago.

Alphonse was sure he'd be a nail biter if he'd had his body back, with all the worry his brother put him through. He paced the bedroom, light giving surface to the dull brown colors of the walls and floor. To call Colonel Mustang, or not to call Colonel Mustang. If anyone could get Edward to do something he didn't want to do, it was the Colonel; and that was only if he was lucky enough to get ahold of the Colonel. It wasn't even a guarantee that the man was in his office.

Metal clinked as Al paced, then came to complete silence as Al stood in front of the phone, making an internal decision once and for all. He picked up the phone, heard the dial tone, made the necessary comments to get through to the Colonel, silently praying that he was in the office at this unruly hour, and to his relief, wasn't disappointed.

"Colonel Mustang, speaking." The voice answered, stoically.

"Hey Colonel, it's Alphonse."

"Good morning, Alphonse. To what, pray tell, do I have the pleasure of hearing from you this early hour?" Either the Colonel had had a good night, or he'd helped himself to one too many glasses of alcohol, which meant he'd probably not slept himself. In any case, Alphonse geared himself up before asking for the Colonel's help, knowing full well that Ed would be none too pleased with him for this gesture.

* * *

In no time at all, Edward found himself standing at the doors that led to Mustang's office, suddenly unsure of himself. He couldn't decide if he really wanted to take on another mission so quickly; but then thoughts of Al smiling gave him enough energy to muster up the courage to open the door. No one else was in the office, so it the likelihood of Colonel Mustang being his office were nill to none.

"Well, look who decided to show up at this short hour," A voice rang in the air. Rats, now Ed really had to… wait, did he just…?

"Who are you calling so short he could fit in a mouse hole!?" Ed growled angrily, miffed that the bastard Colonel could make a jab at him so early in the morning. Seriously, his lack of height was not his fault! Ed nearly smacked himself in the head for internally calling himself short. He did _not_ want to give the bastard any other reason to make fun of him.

"Look, just give me a mission and I'll be on my way." Ed had walked quickly to Mustang's desk, hand held out expectantly. The bastard Colonel, however, stared at him inquisitively. Ed shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Are you going to give me a mission or not, Bastard?" He demanded, sick of waiting, even if it had lasted less than a minute.

"You look tired, Fullmetal." The Colonel finally spoke up once again. He glanced out the window, at the sun barely peeking out from the cloudy sky. "Why don't you take a nap on my couch over there." He gestured his head towards the uncomfortable looking couch behind Edward. Irritation flared through Ed's veins. He did not come all the way here just to fake a nap on the Bastard's couch!

"Just give me a damn mission, Bastard." Edward grumbled, indignantly, not wanting to deal with his smugness so early in the morning.

"My my, someone's testy this morning. Seems like a _small_ dose of sleep is just what you need."

"Don't call me short, you bastard!"

"Seems someone has a tiny vocabulary today,"

" _Shut up!_ " Ed snarled, frankly tired of making the effort to dish out insult after insult, as was their thing. All Ed wanted was to take another mission to get the last one out of his head. He needed someone else to replace his haunted nightmares. Or maybe they were daymares? He wasn't quite sure.

After that last display, however, Mustang studiously looked Edward over, with a brow furrowed. The effort making Ed far more uncomfortable than he'd want to admit.

"I'm not going to give you another mission, Ed." Mustang finally responded. Indigenous, Edward clenched his fists.

"What the hell, Mustang?"

"You look like you could use some rest Fullmetal. Go home. Come back when you don't look like a bitty old man, ready to keel over."

"Don't call me short, old man!" Ed huffed, angrily. What did a person have to do to get nightmares replaced? Ed was doomed right from the very beginning. "Why do you care, anyway. It's not like I've never come back looking like death rolled over."

"Not that it's any of your business, Fullmetal, but a _little_ birdie told me that you've not been sleeping. If you don't sleep, you get less cautious on a mission. If you're less cautious, you make mistakes. Goodness knows I could use less mistakes from you. I don't need any more reports of damaged buildings and street vendors complaining that their merchandise has been defiled and smashed to smithereens. Get some rest, Fullmetal."

"So, you talked to Alphonse." Ed muttered, completely missing "small" jab. Mulling it over, Edward finally came to the conclusion that it was a mistake to seek out the bastard Colonel.

"It's not the sleeping I'm having troubles with," Ed muttered to himself, before turning on his heel, "whatever, Bastard." He replied louder, completely missing the furrowed brow of his slightly tipsy commander.

* * *

The whole way back to the dorm, however, Ed stewed over the revelation that his brother had called his commanding officer over something so petty. He couldn't believe that Alphonse had made such a presumption that the Bastard would care about their well-being. All Ed was to the Colonel was a pawn to get him further ahead in his path to Fuhrer. Nothing more, nothing less.

When Ed finally made it back to their dorm room, he was at the boiling point in his irritation. The second he opened the door, Ed couldn't help but open his mouth.

"Why'd you call the Bastard!" He demanded, "It's not as if he could do anything to help me except give us a mission." Alphonse, closing the alchemy book he was reading on the couch, faced his brother with practiced ease, knowing full well he'd be shaking if he had his body back.

"You need to sleep, brother. And not the kind of sleep you've been having the last few days. I mean restful sleep! How can we get our bodies back if you can't focus? You'll just end up making more mistakes and who knows what that could do?"

Edward flinched, though hardly visible to the naked eye, but the jab at his inability to get their bodies back stung Ed. More so than he was willing to admit. It was almost like Alphonse was saying he was incapable of keeping his promise. As if he really did blame him for their current predicament and no hope of fixing it.

"So you called Mustang because you think I can't do what I promised, otherwise?"

"No, that's not it, brother!" Alphonse, countered, incensed, "I think that you're not going to be able to sleep unless you do something to make sure you can. Like seeing a doctor about sleeping pills. You need something, brother!"

The more that Edward listened to his brother, the more he couldn't help but feel not only irritation, but fear. Fear that his brother would reject him. But fear was overridden by an overabundance of self-doubt and hate. If Edward hated himself, how could he expect anything less from his brother. Except the very idea of that kind of ill intent from his blood brother hurt more than Ed could bare to think about, and with thoughts already spilling with the abundant noise that his brother blamed him, Ed could only lash out. Even if he didn't really mean it.

" _Shut up, Al!"_ Ed nearly yelled. For the second time that morning, he'd lost his ability to control his inward thoughts, though this time, the words were directed at someone who never deserved them. Ed stared at Alphonse in shock, and Alphonse did the same. Neither said anything for a minute, before Edward spun on his heel, red coat flapping loudly, "I'm going out for a bit," Edward hastily quipped, agitated with himself, though the words were taken in a different context. Before Edward closed the door entirely, he heard Al reply,

"Fine. You do that." His words were equally as irritated.

Ed barely restrained himself from slamming the door behind him. Maybe it had just been the dream that infuriated him so damn much, but the need to go some place to think without the underwhelming stare of his brother crushed his chest to a great degree.

Hands thrust in his pockets, Edward slowly made his way through the streets of City Central, hardly taking notice of his surroundings. People evaded him, some cursing his inability to watch out for other pedestrians, all the while droplets began to drizzle from the sky. With a sigh of resignation, Ed found a remote tavern nearby with which to shelter himself from the rain. Being so early in the morning, no other place was open.

The ding of the bell rang as he entered, the putrid smell of alcohol immediately assaulting his nose. Eyes adjusted to the dimness of the tavern, a grimace plainly seen as Ed walked towards the bar counter, raising skeptical glances from the barman.

"We don't serve alcohol to minors," The barman griped, serving a drink to the one other customer sitting at the counter.

"Yeah, yeah," Ed mumbled, "just a water, thanks." Hands clasped, Ed tried to make himself invisible to everyone around him. He did not feel the desire to talk to anyone this morning, least of all anyone from his team. Even with it so early in the morning, Ed wouldn't put it past any of them to grab a drink before heading off to work. With the tavern being so close to headquarters, he also wouldn't be surprised to see one of them wander in this particular place.

Vaguely, underneath the recesses of his mind, Ed heard the bell crinkle as more people made their presence.

"Here you go, son," a water was placed in front of Ed, as the barman distractedly turned his attention to the newcomers. Unfortunately for Ed, he felt a plop of air next to him when a person sat next to him. Consciously, Ed veered his body away from the contact, his 'bubble' invaded and feeling too emotionally tired to say anything aloud.

"What's a kid doing in a tavern this early in the morning?" The person who invaded his bubble spoke.

"Who are you calling so little he'd be mistaken for a toddler!" Edward sniped at the person, hardly aware of the femininity of the voice.

"Relax, kid, I meant no harm by it." The soft laugh to her voice caused Ed to blink, turn to look at her, then immediately back away at the closeness of her face. Suspicious at her intentions, Ed moved slid farther away to a more comfortable distance.

"Yeah, well, what I do is none of your business." He took a sip of his water once again; she hummed in what sounded like amusement, causing his irritation to spike just a tich more. It was just as well, that someone annoying would be there at that time in the morning to grate on his ears, as Ed felt that he somehow always had bad luck following him. _Not when it comes to Al, though_ he thought with conviction. Everything bad could happen to him, as long as Al stayed out of that dubious picture. Unfortunately for Ed, he had no idea just how accurate his thoughts would become.

"You know," The lady next to him began, taking a sip of her half-drunk glass of alcoholic beverage petitely. Ed glanced warily at her, feeling a sense of dread shiver up his spine. He looked over his shoulder around the tavern, suddenly self-conscious at being stuck in the ale house with a woman getting herself drunk so early in the morning. He was accosted by the sight of an empty lobby and a barman seemingly nowhere to be found. "it's damn unlucky for a boy such as yourself to be tethered to the military like a dog."

Her voice, though in its natural state probably very alluring to an adult male, held no power over the young alchemist. Ed could feel anger beginning to bubble beneath the surface of his already crappy morning.

"Yeah? And what does someone like yourself even know about my situation anyway?" His fingers tightened around the empty water glass, "you know what? Nevermind. It doesn't matter what you think." Ed made to get up off the barstool, when a hand shot out and forcefully made him stay down. Her fingernails dug into his skin, and Ed silently wished she was grabbing at his automail arm instead. If only that her nails would break.

"Sorry, but I can't let you go." The woman looked at him, a long strand of chocolate brown hair flitting over her eyes.

"What makes you think you can keep me here?" Ed admonished lowly.

"What makes you think I would be unable to?" She countered, the pupils in her green eyes dilated a little too much. Ed sighed aloud, exasperated that so much effort was needed to be used at such a damn early time in the morning. He really just wanted to stew in his thoughts without an incident for once, as the last few days had easily been brewing into his more darker thoughts.

"Lady, you should probably let me go, otherwise things could get ugly." Her smile in response was a little too creepy for Ed's liking.

"Is that a promise?" She bit back, in equally as threatening a tone. Ed really had no time for the woman, as the pounding of rain was now at full force. Al would most likely be worrying too much about him if he didn't return anytime soon.

Ed made to stand once more, ripping his arm from her grasp, feeling small scrapes in his skin from her overly long nails. Smoothly hiding the wince from his steadily becoming enemy, Ed turned his back on her once again, his coat swishing loudly in the all-too-quiet tavern. It was then that Ed noticed that his earlier observation had been incorrect. There were still a few people in the tavern; however, they had been obscured by the darkness of the room, the lighting and lack of windows helping to cover their discrete movements.

Walking swiftly, Ed's heart pounded as it normally did every time he was about to be in a fight that seemed more than it looked on the surface. Shady men lurking about a tavern when one woman was threatening him definitely counted as 'something about to happen worthy of caution' in his book.

A knife shot passed Edward's head, sticking solidly into the exit of the tavern, efficiently stopping him in his tracks. He really should write a book solely on how to make predictions. Listening to his instincts never failed him. However, getting him out of trouble in time was an altogether different story.

Paused in his tracks, Edward slowly turned around, unable to hide the clenching of his fists. Out of the peripheral of his vision, Ed could see the shady men slowly stand, an almost eerie laugh escaping their lips. He could only hear the menacing sound due to the lack of noise elsewhere in the tavern. Where the _hell_ was the barman? Not to mention, Ed couldn't figure out how he missed all the customer's making their way out the door to begin with. Unless of course, he'd walked into a hellhole right from the start. Dread puddled the pit of his stomach. Ed had only been awake for maybe three hours and already the rainy day was long and tiring.

"If it's a fight you want, then it's a fight you get." With a quick clap of his hands, Ed swiftly transmuted his automail arm to have a small dagger protruding off the top, standing defensively towards his enemies. Right as an almost twisted, hungry grin shone off the woman's features, the barman's voice could be heard.

"Not in my tavern! If yer gonna fight, take it outside!" Surprised, Edward blinked, the woman shrugged, and the shady men waiting to pounce on Ed paused in their movements to give each other a look. The moment was gone in an instant, and quickly, Ed made a run for it. Thrusting the door open (not even noticing the slam of the door as he bolted) Ed transmuted a wall to block the other's from his path.

Unfortunately, the woman was far more nimble than he thought, and she expertly climbed over the high wall, hardly missing a beat. Ed ran as fast as possible, the rain making it impossible to see far in front of himself.

"What the hell do you want, Lady!?" He screamed, not caring if his question was heard by the person herself. In a way, Ed was relieved that it was raining. First, because on days like today, the citizens of Amestris kept to their homes, safe and warm. Second, because if his visibility was poor, than the lady chasing him had to be having just as tough a time. Which meant it was time to put his surroundings to use and get lost in the city.

Taking a left, Ed quickly transmuted a wall to hide his entrance, feeling more than hopeful that he'd lost the crazy woman. He smirked to himself, realizing that the bastard Mustang would have to praise him for _not_ destroying the town when he could have easily done so.

"Geez, that Lady can run," Ed proclaimed to the walls of Amestris homes, huffing to catch his breath. Slowing his pace to a minute walk, Ed looked around, curious.

"Now where am I?" It only just dawned on Ed right then that he'd run into an alleyway. With the rain falling as thick as it was, he couldn't be sure whether he'd walked himself into a dead end or not and opted to just wait until he deemed the timing right that the woman was long gone.

When several minutes passed by with no sound apart from the hash blur of rain, Ed approached the wall he'd created, hands in the pockets of his coat. Squinting his eyes as if to see through the wall, Ed contemplated the positives and negatives of his actions. The crazy lady could still be there, waiting to attack him unawares; or she could have given up the chase, whatever the cause had been for. In fact, the more Edward thought about it, the more absurd the whole situation seemed. The fact that the woman was a citizen of Amestris who didn't seem to use alchemy didn't help, either. He felt far less willing to use his alchemy on her because of it.

Dropping chin to chest, Ed sighed. His limbs ached where metal met flesh; he was freezing cold, and the idea of a nap seemed like the greatest idea right that moment. Not to mention Ed was beginning to worry about Alphonse worrying for him. His brother was always worrying for him whenever he left on his own. Especially after they fought. If anything, Alphonse would be just as worried about their fight as he was over the ridiculous sleep problem. It was more than Ed deserved, to have someone worry about him, but he was still grateful for the security those thoughts provided.

After what seemed like hours (though it was more like minutes) Edward decided to say 'to hell with it' and the clap of his hands was a small sound in the pouring rain, even to Ed's ears. Placing hands on the ground once again, Ed took down the alleyway wall, eyes alert in case he was jumped.

His caution was unnecessary when the fallen wall revealed no one on the other side. A couple people passing by the alley jumped in surprise, nearly losing their umbrella's, but otherwise the coast was clear.

With a satisfied smirk, Edward appeared out of the the alley, looking both directions of the sidewalk to make sure he really wasn't being followed. He had managed to walk only a few steps towards central when a hand grabbed his damp hood, pulling him back towards the wall of a small convenience store. His head slammed against the wall, creating spots in front of his eyes. If he thought to rub the back of his head, he was sure he'd feel the warmth of his blood.

"I told you I can't let you go," A silky voice whispered in his ear. A form slithered their way in front of him, pinning him to the wall by the neck, keeping his hands separated. _Dammit_ Ed screamed in his head, trying to focus his eyes on the close form. How was it possible for a woman to be stronger than him?

It was as his eyes gave a blurry focus, that Edward realized how screwed he actually was. The crazy woman from earlier (who, for some reason, had no idea what the meaning of "boundaries" meant) had her other hand near his face, lazily maneuvering a skinny bottle of nail polish between her fingers. When Ed's eyes widened and glance at the pierced skin of his arm, she smirked when she saw he understood just what she had done.

* * *

 **Well there you have it! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I know a lot hasn't happened so far, but don't worry, the next chapter will have more in it. xD Anyway, please review! They always make my day and super glad people enjoy what I'm writing.**

 **Rock on, my fellow writers! Until next time \m/(o.o)**

 **Ja ne**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey all! Thank you so much for the reviews, favorites and follows! I truly makes my day to see them. :D Here's the second chapter! This story is coming out faster than I had expected it to and I'm already halfway done with the 3rd chapter. I plan on trying to keep up that pace. Be at least 1 chapter ahead of my postings. Otherwise it could get overwhelming, you know? :D My normal posting date will be Saturday's, however, if I get too excited to post it, it may come out earlier than that xD**

 **So, not a crazy lot happens with this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. More intense content is to come so look forward to it!**

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Chapter 2

Alphonse Elric was sitting on his bed, calmly reading his alchemy book, wishing for the rain to stop pouring so hard. His brother was still out in the cold, but the dangers of Alphonse going out there to bring him back were too high. Unfortunately, Al couldn't risk the blood seal coming off the metal armor. If that happened, his brother would break.

As much as Al wanted to be in his own body again, he wanted to go on living in this world. It was really a lose lose situation for him. He could either die, and be back in his body, or he could live and watch as his brother worked endlessly to find a way for their bodies to return back to normal.

Al wanted that. He wanted his body back so bad that sometimes, he daydreamed he could taste the victory. Even if he could no longer remember what it meant to have tastebuds. It actually worried Alphonse, that he was forgetting those sensations. Worried that, if he forgot them, it meant that he would lose his sense of purpose. That he would lose his drive to find his body and give him those memories back. It was one of those reasons why he kept a book of foods to eat once he _did_ have his body again.

He pulled out the book from its spot on the nightstand, turning to open the page to the quiche that Missus Hughes had made for him and Ed so long ago. He gazed at the words for a moment. If he had had his body back, one would say he looked at it without emotion. Even now, some may say that. There had been a time when Al would look at those food items and he would feel a sense of sadness, and those who knew him well would be able to tell by the movement of armor the kind of mood he was in.

Now, though, Alphonse looked at his booklet with more a sense of loss than anything else. He'd lost a part of himself, and as time passed, he was beginning to think that maybe he would never get it back. In fact, what really kept him going nowadays was watching Edward work so tirelessly to find a way to get their bodies back.

It hurt Al's soul to watch him. It hurt so much to watch his brother work himself to the bone; to the point of having a ceaseless supply of bags under his eyes. It hurt Alphonse to watch his brother go through nightmare after nightmare, when there was nothing he could do about it. In fact, as time passed on, it was seeing the guilt in Edward's eyes that kept Alphonse going. If anything, he wanted to cure his brother of that guilt. Take that burden off his shoulders. Even if they were both at fault for performing the act of human transmutation, Edward portrayed his brother in such a light of innocence that it was unfair.

Alphonse deserved to have that burden as much as his brother did, but Edward would never in a million years place that blame upon him. Alphonse had to change that. It was watching his brother that gave Alphonse the courage to continue forward in this world. It was what gave him the determination to make sure that his brother never lost hope, even if he, himself, did. That was one thing he would never let Edward know. He could picture the whole scene, from the wide-eyed disbelief to an almost desperation that Alphonse should want it just as much as Ed. That their reasoning to keep going should be the same.

It was for those reasons that Alphonse wanted his brother to get a decent amount of sleep each night. It was why it angered him, that Ed would be so stubborn as to refuse the aid of a sleeping pill. If he had a decent amount of sleep, he'd think more clearly. Why was his brother so _stubborn_?

Alphonse sighed, glancing out the window. It was good that his brother was stubborn, but sometimes it got in the way. Sometimes, Ed needed someone to tell him off. Sometimes, when Alphonse couldn't hold back his worry for his brother, he would almost explode with words telling his brother what he needed to do to stay healthy and keep his mind alert. Like that morning.

When Alphonse thought about their fight, he most definitely felt guilty for that. Really, Ed should never play a game of poker, as his eyes gave away everything. The last look Edward gave Al before he left showed just how much Ed's heart was hurting. Why was it that whenever it counted, Alphonse could do nothing?

With another sigh, Alphonse glanced at the clock. Half-past nine in the morning. Edward had left the dorms just after six.

"Where are you brother?" No one in the empty space of the room acknowledged his question. If Edward didn't come back after another few hours, Alphonse would most definitely be talking to Colonel Mustang. Whether Ed liked it or not. A foreboding feeling was creeping its way into his soul, and Al wasn't about to let it stay there for long.

* * *

The rain pounded against the window pane behind Mustang, its obnoxious sound grating on his nerves. Today was not a good day. Initially, it hadn't started out bad. He'd stayed the previous night, signing off papers so that by the end of the work day today, he would be able to go home and enjoy a weekend off. It being Friday, Mustang looked forward to having some time to rest his mind. He felt a little frayed at the edges this week. He had even indulged in a little bit of alcohol the previous night, to keep himself wanting to stay late. Thus, Mustang had fallen asleep on his desk once again.

It was with great surprise that Mustang had awoken to the sound of his phone going off. He had forgotten that he'd fallen asleep on his desk and the little bit of a headache he was left with did little to wake up his groggy mind. However, when it was Alphonse on the line, begging him to not let Edward take another mission just yet, it made Mustang sit a little straighter in his seat. He had to make sure he was presentable for his subordinate, dammit.

He felt slightly amused when Fullmetal had entered his office, but after further words were exchanged with him, Alphonse had been right to be worried. One look at Edward's eyes said it all. The heaviness of the bags displaying themselves so easily made Mustang wonder just what had happened on that previous mission to make him like this. Nothing in his report indicated that something was amiss, which then had Mustang curious. So, feeling a little too proud with himself, he figured he would give his subordinate a little more time to rest before he asked anything of him.

When Fullmetal stormed out of the room… a large frown creeped its way onto his face. Fullmetal must really need some rest if he was acting like the teenager he really was. Now, as it was nearing one o'clock, his office was abuzz with the rest of his team. Each member chattering away while doing their work under the watchful gaze of Hawkeye. Thoughts of her made him smile, but the euphoric sensation it seemed to bring with it made his headache pound a little harder. It reminded him once again just how much he hated rainy days.

It really was useless, to be pouring so ridiculously hard. Where was that rain all going to, anyway? Not all of the rain was going to feed the trees and grass. It was just as useless as he was while it cascaded down from the sky. Mustang hardly noticed a few snickers from his team who overheard his grumblings. The Flame Alchemist may have been having a bad morning, but that didn't mean they didn't find it any less amusing.

When the phone rang, Mustang answered it, just as he always did.

"Colonel Mustang, speaking."

"Sir, we've got a note here for you. Someone just dropped it off."

"A note?" Mustang tapped his chin with the pen he was holding, "do you know who dropped it off?"

"No sir, although the person looked a little bit like the Fullmetal Alchemist."

"Fullmetal?" Mustang's brow nit. What would Fullmetal be doing, dropping off a note? That was definitely weird, even for him. At the mention of Fullmetal's name, his team made little effort to hide their eavesdropping.

"Alright, thank you for letting me know. I will send down one of my subordinates to pick it up." The second Mustang hung up the phone, Havoc spoke up,

"What's that about the chief?" The question made everyone's head turn to look at Mustang. He had to hold back a roll of his eyes for how obvious his team showed they cared about the little tyke.

"It would seem that Fullmetal left us a note at the front office. Fuery," Fuery straightened a little bit taller at the sound of his name, "please go and grab the note." Instantly, Feury was on his feet, saluting his commanding officer.

"Yes, sir!" He hurriedly left the office, everyone else staring a little bewildered at the closing door. Even to all of them, this seemed a little uncharacteristic of the Fullmetal Alchemist. When Fuery rushed in the door, he stumbled at the entrance, nearly falling on his face. He held out the note in front of him, never losing his grip. It was only when he placed the note on Mustang's desk that Mustang had to chortle at his comedic entrance. Fuery had even caused Havoc to guffaw, and the other's to quietly laugh at his little display. It was a bit of a relief when they all felt a bit tense.

Mustang's smile immediately vanished the moment he read the title of the note.

Dear Colonel Mustang it started out. What the hell? After a thorough read through of the note, Mustang became convinced that this note did not belong to his subordinate. Whoever was impersonating him did a poor job of being convincing. He would have laughed at the idiocy of "dear Colonel Mustang" if its implications didn't mean the kidnapping of an one Fullmetal Alchemist.

"What's up boss? What happened to Chief?" Havoc asked, unable to keep his worries to himself.

"Yeah, what's happened to him?" Breda chimed in. Rubbing his face with a sigh, Mustang held his hand out for Hawkeye to take the note from him, her eyes instantly going to its context.

"Good grief, Fullmetals gone and gotten himself kidnapped again." He paused, remembering his subordinate that morning, "I think I'm going to give Alphonse a call. Maybe he's with Ed and this is just a mistake that never happened." Before he could pick up his phone, however, it rang. Blinking from the unexpected phone call, Mustang picked up the receiver.

"Colonel Mustang, speaking,"

"Sir, there is an Alphonse Elric on the other line for you," Mustang's eyebrows shot up. Well, speak of the devil.

"Send him through," he ordered, unsure whether this phone call would be to his liking. A beep was made, letting Mustang know he could talk, "Colonel Mustang speaking,"

"Colonel!" The metallic voice exclaimed, as if he had been surprised.

"Hello Alphonse, just the person I was hoping to talk to."

"You were?" The deflation in his voice was not lost on Mustang, and instantly he was an alert, feeling a little too anxious.

"I was hoping to ask you about your brother."

"Oh," Alphonse's voice was as expressive as ever. Mustang glanced at the clock. Half-past one. How long had Edward been gone?

"When was the last time you saw him?" His voice began to take on a more urgent tone.

"So, you've not seen him recently?" Alphonse paused, "the last time I saw him was this morning after he had spoken to you. We got in a fight and he stormed out."

They fought? That was unusual. Mustang glanced up at his team, their stares seering holes in him. "Did Fullmetal say where he was going?"

"No… just that he would be going out for a bit. Except to be gone this long is ridiculous. I… you don't think he would hurt himself because of our fight, do you?" A stab of concern and something else that the flame alchemist wouldn't admit to dented his heart.

"That's rather unlikely," The Colonel assured Alphonse, awkwardly. This was a thing that Hughes had always been good at. Not him. Yet, when it came to the Elric brother's, a part of him always wanted to make sure that they reached their goal. Felt concerned whenever Ed would have to be hospitalized due to injuries from missions that _he_ had sent him on. Felt frustrated whenever Ed would act like he didn't care about his own physical well-being. What those feelings meant, Mustang did not want to give it any more precedence than he already had.

"I'd go looking for him myself, but...with the rain coming down as hard as it is…" The worry in Alphonse's voice was far too apparent for his liking. If Alphonse was worried, that was not a good sign.

"I understand, Alphonse. It's unlikely that anything has really happened to your brother, but you know how he is. Always finding trouble, even without looking for it."

"Yeah, that's what I'm worried about."

"Don't stress, Alphonse. We'll keep you updated on your brother."

"Thanks, Colonel." Mustang let out a breath of relief. Consoling someone was exhausting. Especially when they are a young kid. Looking up from his desk, his entire team had not ceased staring him down.

"So, is Fullmetal really missing, then?" Breda finally asked the question that was one the tip of everyone's mind.

"I think it would be wise to assume as much. Havoc! I want you and Falman to investigate outside. See if there is any evidence of a fight - we all know Fullmetal is prone to destruction - and see if you can find out the last place he was spotted."

"Yes, sir!" The two named stood and saluted, quickly heading out the door. Hawkeye stood nearby, her presence as calming as ever. Her eyes shone, ready for action. Mustang looked at her, anxious over his youngest subordinate, but comforted in the knowledge that she had his back. Mustang knew, without a doubt, that Hawkeye felt just as protective over the Fullmetal Alchemist, and that she would raise hell to make sure he was safe.

The Flame Alchemist sighed through his nose, closing his eyes. The headache he had momentarily forgotten about was beginning to pound against his skull with a vengeance. So much for that relaxing weekend he had been looking forward to.

* * *

Ed awoke to munching sounds and what sounded like white noise of a radio. He groaned, blinking slowly, wincing from the pain in his neck. Apparently someone had decided to sit him on a wooden floor, arms chained on either side of him. His head had fallen forward against his chest, hence the pain it created.

In front of Ed, a tall, lava brown haired man sat cross legged, chewing on potato chips, watching him curiously. Ed's stomach involuntarily growled at the sight of food.

"Heh?" Ed deadpanned, embarrassed to be caught with a growling stomach. The man sitting in front of him stared for a minute, a glimmer of amusement replacing his surprise.

"Oi, you hungry?" The man asked, curiously. As if the whole situation they found themselves in were nothing of interest. Confused, Edward gaped at the man, astonished that he would ask such a question. Really, when Ed thought about it, he never did eat breakfast. He glanced around the room he was in. The man sat on the floor at the end of a bed. To his right, an exit door. In front of him on the other wall, a window that was partially open from the bottom of the sill gave Ed a perfect view of the rainy day. The room was relatively small, and boring. Brown on brown on white (with the bedsheets being the white.) So, if his thoughts served him correctly, the day had yet to end. Which meant he'd only been out for maybe an hour or more.

"Oi!" The man spoke through the food in his mouth, a hand held towards Ed with a chip in it. Unimpressed, Edward gave no indication that he actually really wanted that potato chip. Snorting, he turned his head in the opposite direction of the creek in his neck, easing its pain somewhat. Unconcerned, the man shrugged, eating the potato chip himself.

Unsure what to think of the man, they sat in silence (if the man's crunching of potato chips could be considered silence) for at least another five minutes before Ed couldn't take it any longer.

"Okay, okay, I give up. What's the catch?"

"What do you mean?" The man paused his chewing, hand in midair.

"Why the hell am I here?" Angrily, Ed wiggled the short chains holding him hostage, "what do you want with me?"

"Well now, does there have to be a reason?"

"Of course there does, dumbass. So what is it?" The man only shrugged, eating his chip. Though he sat cross-legged in front of Ed, the man couldn't seem to stop moving. His legs bounced like a nervous tick. _Definitely something wrong with him_ Ed observed slightly disgusted. Again, silence reigned. The clacking of Ed's metal fingers against the wooden floorboards seeming unnaturally loud.

If only this guy would leave the room, Ed could scratch a transmutation onto the floor and free himself from the damn chains. Leaning back against the wall, Edward hissed, forgetting that he had a wound on the back of his head.

"Ooo, yeah, forgot to remind ya you've got yerself a nasty gash on the back of yer head." The man's speech slurred as though he were drunk from the mass amount of food in his mouth.

Wishing he could at least tend to the wound, Edward couldn't help the roll of his eyes, "I hadn't noticed,"

The man swallowed, a cheeky, menacing glint in his eye ,"hey now, you ought to be nice to me. After all," he lifted a chip up as an example, "I've got your food. I can always keep it just out of your reach, ya know." Stuffing the piece in his mouth (the smacking of his lips making Ed want to hurl,) the man reached in the bag for another.

"Eh?" He exclaimed, bewildered that is hand came out empty, with bits of salt left to be salvaged. "I guess I need a new bag." Licking his fingers, the man's shoulders lifted limply, sighing with satisfaction and a bit of amusement, "don't worry, little lad-"

"Don't call me short!" Ed snapped, irritated with the man, though secretly his heart pumped faster at the knowledge he could be out of this place soon. The man carried on as if Ed had never spoken.

"I'll be back with some more food to eat!" He winked at Ed, pulling the squeaky door open.

"Wait! What's your name?" If Ed grabbed the man's name, him and Mustang and everyone could make a counter attack. After all, if these people felt the need to capture a state alchemist, then something was amiss.

"Oh?" The man paused, an eyebrow raised with surprise. "You wish to know my name?" His smile brittled Ed's nerves. The man dramatically pointed to himself, the long sleeves of his blue pin-striped shirt flowing easily, "I am none other than the astute dagger-wielder, Macabé!" His enthusiastic bow made Ed wonder if the man had been in a circus. His overt flare seemed to insinuate such.

With a wink, the man left his presence, closing the door with a loud thump.

"Oh boy…" Slightly disturbed, Ed let out a huff of air, "how did I get myself kidnapped by such an imbecile?" He wasted no time, however, taking action. Immediately, with how much of a chain he was given, Edward had enough room to move his hands to carve out a transmutation. He snickered at the idiocy of his captives. Did they really forget just who he was?

Regrettably, Edwards thoughts of escape came too quickly, as the hurried pitter-patter of footsteps made their way in front of his door.

"Mac, you buffoon, why the hell did you think we put you on guard for?" Ed's breath caught, his scratching of the floor nearly finished. The door opened faster than he had expected and it was with a small lamentation that Ed was unable to complete the circle. The woman who opened the door revealed herself to be none other than the woman from the tavern, her feminine coat no longer covering her rather generous bosom and wiley curves. The strapless red dress left very little to the imagination.

Upon entering the chilly room, the woman had taken a moment to look Ed's way as her attention had been caught by Macabé. When she did turn her eyes on Ed, he instinctively flinched back against the wall. This woman meant business, and Edward had no way of knowing just what she wanted.

An angry glint flashed in her eyes, and she walked the short distance towards Edward, her black heels clacking against the ground. She took one look at the nearly completed transmutation, clucked her tongue disapprovingly, before she placed one foot against the wrist of his automail, and another on his flesh wrist. A pain Edward couldn't describe shot up his flesh arm, and he instantly shot forward, trying to ease its effects, banging his elbow against the floorboards.

"It looks like our little puppy thought he was being clever," she alleged, kneeling down to get a closer look at Ed's face. The pressure to hold her balance amplified on Edward's wrist and he had to bite his lip in order to not make a noise. He didn't want to give this gangly woman the satisfaction that she was succeeding in her intentions to hurt him. He couldn't hide the creases in his forehead, however and the woman let out a short laugh, grabbed his chin and forced Edward to look at her even in his hunched state. It irritated Ed that he was unable to yell at her for calling him short.

"Listen here, you little shit. You try anything funny, and you won't see daylight again." Though she spoke quietly, her voice was anything but soft. Edward stared her down, not giving the woman the satisfaction of compliance. Seconds passed by as the silent fight commenced, before the woman smirked, caressed Edwards chin, lingered her thumb against the underside of his lip; before she eased the pressure off both his arms, using her heel to scratch a long line through his transmutation circle and walked back to the door. Macabé stood in the entrance, his expression unreadable for the first time that day.

"Get back to your post, dipwad. Wouldn't want to get caught letting our alchemist get away, now would you?" The woman passed by Macabé, who watched her strut out of the room, licking his lips as he did so. Disgusted, Edward leaned against the wall once more, careful not to bang the back his head. His wrist throbbed incessantly. If he had made any movements to remove his hand from her foot, he was sure she would've broken his wrist. For the moment, Ed figured that a bruised and aching wrist was the better option. Especially if he wanted to make an escape.

"She's an enchantress, that one." The man shut the door behind him, sitting at his position at the end of the bed once again, "and a delicious one to boot." Macabé laughed at the face Edward made. "Don't worry, kid. You'll understand the joys of a woman one day. You'll see."

Ed raised an eyebrow at the perplexing man, choosing to ignore his implications rather than encourage him. Briefly, he wondered why Macabé never came back with a bag of chips, but those thoughts fled when he shivered, having forgotten that the window was still open. But it was that shiver that Ed realized he no longer had his trademark red coat. He glanced around the room, hoping that it had somehow been misplaced, but it was to no avail. His coat was gone.

"Whatcha lookin' for?" Macabé asked, curious.

"My coat, you bastard," Ed glared at the man, knowing full well that Macabé knew what he was talking about, "where is it?"

Macabé cocked his head, contemplating the question. "Your coat?"

"Yes, you idiot. And my state alchemist watch. Where'd you put them?" His automail hand automatically bundled into a fist, hardly indented from the heel that had kept it captive from earlier.

"Oh those?" Macabé leaned back on his hands, looking at the ceiling in thought, "you ain't gonna need those things any longer, not to worry." If Ed could, he'd smack his forehead. It was as if the man didn't realize just how important those items were to Ed. Nor could he understand how the man could be so unconcerned when he had someone being held hostage right in front of him.

"Eventually I'm going to need those things back, you know." Ed managed to say, clenching his teeth.

Macabé then had the audacity to laugh heartily at Edward's statement,

"Oh, that was a good one!" Macabé wiped a tear from his eye, "I promise, you won't need them things back. Everything is in our hands now. I'd say you can relax and take it easy, but, you know, can't have that just yet."

"What do you mean?" Hopefully, Macabé would spill the beans, allowing Ed to finally understand the meaning for his kidnapping. He nearly groaned aloud at the thought. Mustang was sure to rip him a new one for all the costs it was going to take after he destroyed this place! Not to mention, he'd left Al at home. Add that on top of the unresolved fight they had, all he needed to do was have hospital bills and he'd take the cake.

An aura of sadness washed over him when he thought of his brother. Al was more than likely worried for Ed, and if Ed didn't return home soon, Al would then go have a chat with the Colonel Bastard. Just what Ed needed. Another excuse for the bastard to rub his position in Ed's face.

"You'll just have to wait and find out. We have some things we need to set up before we have a chat with ya."

"A chat." Ed deadpanned, frustrated with how evasive Macabé was being with his words.

"Well yes, a chat. You think we brought you here for no reason? We've come to save you! But we need some information first in order to do so."

"Save me? What are you talking about?"

Shrugging, Macabé made swirls on the ground with one hand, resting his chin on the other, looking a bit bored without his potato chips. Though his legs continued to bounce monotonously.

"They aren't my questions to ask, so you'll just have to wait until later today." He looked up at Edward, a strange glint in his eye, "but we might be able to have some fun before then."

The man might be crazy, but until that moment, Edward had yet to be wary of him.

Irritated more than a little worried, Edward positioned himself to at least be a little more comfortable on the hard surface. His butt was beginning to ache and he opted to straighten his legs from their folded position. Unable to move his arms (or even lay down,) and now having to deal with a ruined transmutation circle with no way to make another one, Edward thought that some sleep might be a good thing. He hadn't been doing so well in that regard anyway (he nearly hunched in on himself as he remembered that that was the very reason he fought with Alphonse,) and hopefully, if he pretended to be sleeping, he'd be able to come up with a plan without having to return the uncomfortable gaze of the weirdo sitting across from him.

Edward twitched awake with a start, unsure just what woke him. He felt groggy and-why did he feel so lethargic, anyway? His eyes hurt, his wrist throbbed, and he was really beginning to feel the affects of not having eaten. In fact, he actually felt like he would be sick if he didn't eat anything. He looked in front of him, squinting his eyes as they seemed to be overtly sensitive to light. Maybe he'd had too much sleep? That was a thing. Macabé was leaning against the bedpost, head lolled over to the side, asleep. A small amount of drool fell out of his mouth and Ed couldn't help but make a face. The man really grossed him out.

In his languid state, Ed felt colder than he did earlier. One painful look at the window showed Ed that it was still daytime, but now he was unsure if it was the same day or not. Was it? It seemed to be raining still, though not as hard. If not… damn. He was escaping a lot slower than he anticipated. Whatever these people wanted, Ed would make sure they paid for the annoyance they caused. Pushing himself to sit straighter, Ed's body was sore. Sitting in the same position for what he presumed was hours would do it.

He could hear sound past the door. Chatter which seemed to be getting closer to the door. Ed braced himself for whoever it was, ready to yell his insults to the bastards keeping him hostage. Nothing could have prepared him for what entered the room before him. The woman opened the door, her silky gaze resting on him, kicking Macabé in the shin to wake him up (snorting as he did so,) then opened the door further and held it for the next person to walk in.

What he saw made Edward seeth on the inside. In walked a man wearing a long red coat (his coat, dammit!) black boots, black leather pants, a black shirt with another, coat like shirt on top of that. His hair was long and tied in a braid behind him, the color the exact same shade as Ed's. In fact, the man had Edwards exact outfit on. One look at his pant pocket and Edward could almost make out the chain which held his state alchemist pocket watch, though with the red coat blocking his view, and feeling drained of energy, Edward was only about seventy percent positive that's what it was.

 _What the hell?_ Ed looked on, incredulously. He'd met a bunch of crazies before, but never one that looked exactly like him. Even the eyes had the color of gold to them. The last piece of evidence that made the whole situation eerily creepy was the fact that the man looked to be the exact same height as Edward.

"Just who the hell are you!" Ed demanded, sick and tired of having none of his questions answered, "and why the hell are you wearing my coat!" The man gazed down at himself, his long bangs blocking his eyes for a moment. When he looked up, the man made a show of himself wearing the coat, turning his body about as if he were walking down a fashion strip.

"Do you like? It's just a tad snug, but that can't be helped."

"Who the hell are you calling short, you freak!" Ed sniped, irritated that a man as small as that guy was calling _him_ short. The man smiled, showing his too-perfect white teeth.

"So the rumors _are_ true. You don't like being called short. I don't see why it bothers you so much. I mean, you've got that aspect about you in your favor."

"What the hell do you mean," The grumble came out less intimidating then Ed had meant it to be. "Who are you?"

"Ah! And here we come to the interesting questions! You see," the man bent forward, his small frame not needing to bend too far down to meet Edward's eyes, "my name is Edward Elric."

* * *

 **Hehe I hope you enjoy that little twist at the end there. And remember! Please R &R :D Ja'matte ne!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey all! Yay for Chapter 3 being posted! And thanks so much for the reviews and favorites/follows! I sincerely appreciate them!**

 **This story is coming along quick. Though, I must say, this chapter was a bit harder to write. It went well in the beginning and then I began questioning it at the end, but in the end, this is the result. When I go and edit this story on a later date (after it's finished) I may change things around, but for now, this will do. Now... a couple of things before the chapter begins:**

 **WARNING: Graphic text and strong hints about rape.**

 **BUT! This story _is_ intended to have a happy ending. Event amidst all the angst and hurt/horror. Just thought you all should know that.**

 **Now... on to the story!**

* * *

Chapter 3

Ed stared, dumbfounded. This had to be some kind of joke, right? He glanced from the woman to Macabé, gauging their reactions. Maybe he had misheard what the guy had said. Elwood; yeah sure, it had to be that, right?

"You really expect me to believe you?" The anger in his voice was loud and clear. The fake (one of the names Edward decided to dub him) placed a hand on his hip, no expression on his own face. He just looked at Ed, perhaps lost in thought. Just what the joker could possibly be thinking was beyond Ed. Everything seemed so ludicrous. How had he gotten himself in this position again? Oh yeah. It was because of _her_. The lady-who-pretended-to-be-a-nice-citizen-of-Amestris lady. That was why. How he could have been duped- well… those reasons were not something he really wanted to dwell on, either. Who knew that the famed Fullmetal Alchemist, hero of the people, could be so carried away in his thoughts that he couldn't think clearly enough to find his way out of a bad situation? Certainly not Ed.

Sighing, Ed crossed his legs and leaned forward, altogether done with being kidnapped.

"Look. Just give me back my things and I'll be on my way. You let me out of here and I promise there won't be any consequences." Hah, he really should take up poker. He impressed himself sometimes at his ability to lie.

"You want me to let you go?" The Fake asked the question as if the very idea had never occurred to him.

"Is that too stupid a question for you to understand?" Maybe talking back to his captors wasn't the best idea, but it's not like Ed had anything better to do. Or rather, he had other subjects he wanted to avoid.

In all his thoughts, a slap to his face was not something he had been expecting. Somehow, in his musings, Ed had missed seeing the woman close the gap between them, effectively swiping her hand across his face. Her nails left small gashes along his cheek, and Edward could feel the trickle of blood seep out from the wounds.

"It's unfortunate that I had to mar your lovely face, but having such a foul mouth will only bring you pain." The woman stood over him, her face exasperated as she waited for a response from Edward. When the only thing she received was a glare, she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"No no, this is a good thing, Karly." Fake Edward spoke up, watching him with wide, curious eyes. So, Karly was the woman's name, eh? Ed made sure to put that information at the back of his mind for safe keeping.

Boots tapped the ground as the fake Edward came to stand at Ed's side. Ed clenched his teeth, unable to help glaring up at his captor. There was no way in hell Ed was shorter than the fake. No way. Without warning, the impostor (who casually had a hand in the coat pocket) stomped on his limp flesh hand. A distressed yelp found its way out of Ed's mouth, and he instantly hunched forward, trying to ease the pain in his fingers. However, when the fake twisted his foot hard against Ed's fingers, he was barely able to contain a cry of pain bubbling the surface of his throat. Seconds passed, and when the pressure was let off his hand, scrapes could be seen all along his knuckles, blood slowly seeping out of the wounds. Ed panted a little, not giving the imposter the privilege of seeing his face.

"You see," the fake spoke, as if giving a lesson, "every bit of information we can get from him will be necessary for the future." A small, gleeful laugh of awe escaped Karly's lips, while Macabé made a noise of awe that clearly stated he had no knowledge of this beforehand.

"What the hell do you want with me?" Ed grit out, watching his fingers try but fail to bend. The fake Edward contemplated his question, cocking his head to the side.

"What do I want with you?" Had Edward looked up right at that moment, he'd have seen the hungry smile that overtook the short man's features, "well now, that is the million dollar question, isn't it?" Abruptly, he turned on his heel to face Macabé and Karly. "Leave. I wish to have a word with my fellow alchemist." Macabé stood, wiping down non-existent crumbs off his old jeans. Karly pouted, glancing down at Edward.

"Don't blemish his beautiful skin too much. He won't be much fun later on if you do."

"That would be a tragedy, wouldn't it?" The fake agreed, glancing at his hostage reflectively, before kicking the other two out of the room. With the door closed, he turned to look at Ed, excitement glittering in his eyes. It was at that moment that Edward's stomach chose to growl once again. The anxiety he felt at having his fingers stomped on and twisted, his body being in less-than acceptable shape for escape, and eyes that hurt every time he glanced towards the window, added to the effect of his lack of food; thereby convincing Ed that if he made any sudden moments within the next minute or so, he'd definitely throw up.

"So you are the famous Edward Elric. The hero of the people. A dog of the military. The Fullmetal Alchemist."

"Wow, that's quite an introduction you've got for me. You should be my lackey." He really couldn't help his snide comment from slipping off his tongue. The guy was asking for it.

The imposter Edward made his way towards Edward, bending his knees to get a closer look at his captive. Ed humphed and looked in the opposite direction. Without warning, a hand snapped forward and grabbed his chin, painfully twisting his head from side to side. Ed was unable to stop a wince when fingers dug into the cuts on his cheek.

"Wow, you really are young. I never thought it possible that the military would stoop so low as to let a kid join the ranks, but…" he clucked his tongue, stinky breath infiltrating Ed's nose. Now that Ed had a closer look at the guy, he was surprised to see that the fake Edward was rather young himself. Couldn't have been more than a few years older than him. The new revelation could definitely be used to Ed's advantage. Same age, equal skill- if him calling himself an alchemist was anything to go by. Logic that made sense in his mind.

Though Ed still felt weak for an inane reason, with the fake Edward so enthralled with looking at his face, he took the chance to prop his elbows against the floorboards and use as much momentum as he could muster to knee the guy in the ribs with his automail leg. With a yelp of surprise, fake Edward propelled forward into the wall, grabbing his side in pain. Ed used that to his advantage and brought his other leg around to kick the guy in the head, but was effectively stopped by an arm that shot up to block his path. That definitely gave Edward his own bit of surprise. His kick should not have been so easily thwarted. What had they done to him while he slept? Dammit, why did he feel so weak!

A laugh made its way out of the fake's mouth, before a fist shot out and slammed against Ed's ribs. Ed gasped and panted against the strike. That… hurt a lot more than he thought it would.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" The fake commented, resting his elbow along Ed's flesh shoulder. Did the guy think they were friends? He shrugged him off.

"What's wrong with you?" He mustered out, the urge to rub the pain in his ribs slowly receding.

"Me? You kicked me first. You only got what you deserve." Impostor Ed stood up, opting to sit on the bed for a moment.

"I'm not gonna ask again," if Ed could fake his confidence, maybe he'd be able to intimidate his captor enough to make a mistake. Such as accidentally leaving the key to the chains holding him down, "why the hell did you bring me here?"

"You want me to answer your questions when you're being rude? That's not how it works. I'm the one asking the questions here." Fake Edward leaned against his knees, his eyes thinning to slits. From where he was sitting, Edward was barely able to make out his face, as the light from the windows continued to glare so effortlessly into his eyes.

"Now tell me, my fellow alchemist, how does it feel being a dog of the military? Just what made you decide to become one? Were you forced? You do have some pretty amazing skills. It's why we have to watch your hands. I see that you tried to create a transmutation earlier before I could come see you ." Fake Edward stood, favoring his ribs just a little, and began to pace. His hands moved animatedly as he spoke.

"Oh! And I am curious. We're both alchemists here, right?" He gave an unnecessary pause at the question. Really, if the guy didn't know Edward was an alchemist already, he wouldn't have chained Ed's hands, "so one of my main questions is… where did you put the transmutation circle on your body to be able to never need one?"

"What are you talking about?" The question was asked more out of spite than anything else. Of course Ed knew what he was talking about. The fact that he could transmute without a circle… that opened of a can of worms which Edward would explicitly _not_ be divulging about to some pompous, snob-ass wannabe who thought too highly of himself.

The fake quit his pacing to give him a knowing look, "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about." He walked up to Ed, stepping on each leg to make sure there wasn't a repeat like early happening, then hunched down to look at Edward's automail arm. Ed gasped at the unnatural pressure against his flesh ankle. It was only now that he realized his boots were missing. _Bastard._ How had he not noticed earlier? When he tried to pull his leg away, the fake pressed harder. Then, as if he didn't notice any resistance or change in how hard he stepped on Ed's leg, the fake reached out both hands to get a closer look at the automail arm.

Instinctively, Ed tried to pull his arm away. Even if he couldn't actually feel the the wannabe's fingers, didn't mean he wanted his fingerprints all over it. Fake Edward didn't seem to notice Ed's reluctance, taking the liberty to rip the sleeve of his jacket in order to get a better look at the automail.

"Hey! That's expensive material, you jerk!" Ed yelled, pissed that the poser thought he had the right to do away with his clothes.

"Expensive?" Fake Edward paused in his inspection, glancing curiously at Ed, "what is expensive to you, when you get paid handsomely?"

"What are you, a grandpa?" He quipped back, "using words such as 'handsomely' clearly implies that."

A hand suddenly gripped Ed's throat, cutting off his airway, slamming him against the wall; inciting more pain to a still tender head gash. Choking, Ed tried to gasp, and instantly felt panicked when his captor was squeezing too tight.

"You know, just because I let you stay in this bedroom, doesn't mean you can say mean things to me. You can't just talk back. That's not how we're gonna run things, got it?" Ed did his best to nod, his vision going black before the fake released him. Ed gasped, gulping in as much as air as quickly as possible, head lowered. The fake still stood on his legs, digging deeper, cutting skin, blood seeping over the edges of his boot. Ed let out an involuntary cry from the unfamiliar pain, before snubbing the noise as much as possible while trying to get air in his lungs.

Why was this guy, who was nearly the same age nonetheless, doing this?

"Isn't it obvious?" Fake Edward brought his face close to Ed's, his breath all too palpable and suffocating all on its own.

"What?" His voice was a little too breathy for his liking.

"Well I guess I can't blame you for not knowing. Don't think of it as something I am doing to you, but rather, think of it as helping me help you out." The words made no sense to Ed; and had he asked his question out loud? He didn't even notice. That didn't bode well.

"What are you talking about?" the Fake Ed gave a short laugh, moving away from Ed, easing pressure off his legs. Ed wasn't sure which was better, having the boot cut into his skin, or have the wound open to the cold air. Thoughts of the cold air caused him to shiver. It was definitely getting colder cold in the room. _Damn that open window_ Ed cursed silently _and damn that fake wannabe for leaving it that way._

The fake Edward sat on the bed, stroking his non-scruffed chin in thought.

"Ed, can I talk frankly with you?" Ed glared at the crazy man,

"You can do whatever the hell you damn well please, now can't you," was his strained reply. Seriously, what kind of drug was the guy on, anyway? Fake Edward smirked then threw his head back to laugh. Angered with nausea bubbling within his stomach, Ed's automail hand balled up, scraping the already ruined transmutation circle. It was eerie, to watch someone who looked and dressed like him act in a completely different manner.

Collecting himself once again, fake Edward watched him with his disturbing grin, "all jokes aside, what I need to ask you is quite serious." He leaned back on his hands casually, the emotion on his face erased.

"I've watched you, Edward Elric-"

"Yeah, that's not creepy at all,"

"Always one to retort, aren't you?" Fake Edward rose an eyebrow. Though his hair was blonde, he'd forgotten to dye his eyebrows and their color did not quite match the ensemble, "as I was saying. I've watched you for some time now, Edward Elric, and I must say… I am utterly astonished at the work they make you do." Now his eyes shone with a glimmer that Ed couldn't place,

"you got into the military because you can use alchemy without a transmutation circle. At the very least, you don't have to draw it out. However," his eyes found at Ed's automail, an animalistic look briefly crossing his features, "I have to wonder where it's placed… and if it has been done, how can I obtain that same power…" those last words he murmured, biting his lip delicately. "Your arm and leg do present a problem, though..."

Ed's stomach twisted with revulsion. Had he not already been feeling sick from hunger (which he wasn't sure was a good thing. Wasn't the nausea supposed to stem off after a while?) the look on the man's face would have done it for him. It was disgusting, watching him eye Ed's automail like he wanted to eat it. Sure, he'd seen Winry give the same look, especially when they had first made their way to Dublith. But the way she had looked at automail, and the way this wannabe looked at his were something else entirely. It was like the guy was on the prowl, like an animal. If he started drooling, Ed wouldn't be surprised.

"Hey, Edward, tell me. What's the secret to your alchemy?" More than a little irked by this developing curiosity, Ed growled back,

"Hard work and dedication, idiot. How else?" His tone left no secrets that he thought the guy stupid. Fake Edward pointed a lazy finger his way, shaking it as he spoke,

"No… it's more than just that. I just know it. I have to know it." He stood up, stretching. The red coat rustling about loudly to Ed's ears. He watched the poser cautiously. Not that he couldn't take it, but he really didn't want to have his skin ripped open more than it already had been.

"I've seen you with our brother, Edward Elric, and I just can't figure it out. How did your brother - who is younger, mind you - grow to be so tall?" He tapped his chin, pacing, "and why is it that he's always in a rather bulky suit of armor? Strange if you ask me." His pacing brought him too close to Ed. He habitually brought his legs in close, favoring his wounded ankle, pressing back against the wall to try and stay as far away from the legit poser as possible.

 _Who the hell is he calling_ our _?_ Ed glowered, watching the guy. How could someone be so crazy and yet be so young?

"Don't you dare bring _my_ brother into this, you asshole!" The impostor lowered himself the short distances to be eye level with Ed, his red coat encircling the bastard as he did so.

"You don't want me to know about our brother? But it's necessary." He brought his hand to Ed's cheek, caressing the gashes tenderly. Ed winced, yanking his head out of his captors snake-like touch, "you see… in order for me to become you, I need to _know_ you." He grabbed Ed's chin again, forcing Ed to look into his eyes, albeit with little success, "I need to know how you react to certain situations. I need to know about your most personal, intimate details. Watching you from a distance can only do so much."

Ed wrenched his jaw out of the poser's grasp once more, hardly feeling the pain in his cheek. His eyes went dark as he glared at his captor, "you stay away from my brother, you got that?" The deep tone to his voice caused the fakes eyebrows to shoot up, an 'oh' not quite making sound on his lips. Then, the smile. That same, animalist, hungry smile that the guy couldn't seem to shake. If he really wanted to be Ed, he was doing a poor job of it.

"So this is what it looks like when you don't want people talking about your brother." Fake Edward laughed at the new revelation, "I promise you, I will become the best Fullmetal Alchemist this country has ever known. Your brother will see it, too!" Infuriated, Ed tried to break the chain holding down his automail arm. He should be stronger than it, right? At the very least, he should be able to pull up the floorboards. When that didn't work, he growled in frustration before kicking the sick bastard in the gut, forcing him backwards into the bed.

"Stay away from my brother, or you'll regret it." Ed warned, unafraid of the consequences this may have caused. Fake Edward hunched forward, grasping his stomach, making small, shuttered breathing noises..

"That automail's a bitch, isn't it?" He gasped out, talking down at the floor rather than at Edward, "...think I'm gonna get that tattooed. That's probably the best option." With another groan, he pulled out a pair of gloves with a transmutation circle stitched onto them. Clapping his hands, he placed them on the floor, and suddenly Ed found his legs being pulled and bound to the wooden floor. He grunted angrily, unable to suppress the yelp the force caused when it touched his wounded ankle.

 _Damn_ Ed cursed, trying to pull his legs free. He was officially in the most uncomfortable position he could possibly be in. Though he was still in a sitting position, he could already feel the affects it was going to have on his butt. The impostor sat back against the bed frame, wiping his forehead.

"Those muscle relaxants must be losing their effects, if you're able to put that much effort in." He look at Ed, still gently holding an arm over his stomach, "this should hold you down until I give you another dose. I think it's time we stuck some more mydriatics into your eyes as well."

Sighing, the poser stood up slowly, heading towards the door. Ed could briefly make out Macabé watching as what Ed assumed to be his boss limp out of the room, hunched over.

"Do whatever you like until I get back," He stated. The look on Macabé's face was not one Edward liked. Before the door closed, the fake Ed turned to look at Edward. "Oh, and one other thing. I, myself, am not a virgin. While it's feasible that you are not a virgin either, all evidence points to that unlikelihood. In order to become you, I feel it important that we share the same experiences. So I'm going to do you a favor and help you out in that regard." He glanced away and began walking once again, "be grateful I'm giving you this experience now, while you can enjoy it." Then he was gone. Out of sight and out of sound range. Macabé, who now held the door open, roamed his eyes over Ed's captured form.

That was no implication or threat. That was a promise. It didn't take long for Ed to realize this as he watched Macabé roam his greedy eyes over his body, all too unabashed. Ed's heart pounded at an unnatural pace which shone through not only his widened eyes, but the now uncontrollable shaking of his body. How could this day have turned out to be so much worse than it had started? What a fool he'd been, to get angry over such a petty thing as his brother _worrying_ about him.

Ed then heard sounds of heels approaching the doorway. He knew exactly who it was, yet until he saw her face, he was in denial. Weren't women supposed to be kind-hearted and loving? Weren't they supposed to care about kids? Didn't they have those instincts that said when a situation was appropriate and inappropriate? Shouldn't all women care about a kid who was being held hostage, instead of hosting sick, twisted ideas about what they could do to that kids body? Shouldn't they all feel the same as his mom?

He nearly gasped at the thought. For the love of- of all the times that he had to be thinking about her, it had to be at a time like this. He forced thoughts of his mom from his mind. There was no way in hell he was going to let her memory be tainted by this woman. Karly entered the room, slowly followed by Macabé.

"So, you pissed off the boss, eh?" She said, her arms folded matter-of-factly. She then sighed, swiping a hand through her hair. She then smiled, looking him directly in the eyes. "Not that it matters to me. After all," she walked over to him, gently touching his face, her long, painted fingernails tickling him uncomfortably, "you are an adorable creature."

Fear stopped him from being able to move or speak up as Karly directed her hand from his face then slowly down his neck, unbuttoning the jacket and moving it out of the way as much as his chained form would allow. She then slowly glided her fingers over the top of his shirt, moving her hand down his chest to its edge, before reaching underneath. Edward clenched his eyes closed, more scared than he ever had been. In fact, the last time he remembered being this scared was the day he committed the taboo.

"Stop!" He deplored, turning his face away, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. Karly didn't listen though, as she continued her exploration.

"Watch us, Edward." Karly commanded, using her other hand to force his face forwards. Ed briefly opened his eyes, appalled when he his vision beheld Macabé smacking kisses against her neck, nibbling her ears, and fondling her now naked breasts.

"Get away from me!" He yelled, tearing his head out of her grasp and looked away once more, trying desperately to free his arms from their chains, panic and bile welling within him. What was it with these people and grabbing his face? He didn't have long to dwell on the matter though.

"Macabé," Karly moaned, pleasurably, unconcerned with Ed's 'tantrum'. She snaked a hand up his chest to grip his shoulder, holding him in place. Her grip was strong enough that he couldn't shake her off. Macabé made a noise to acknowledge he'd heard her. "Something needs to be done with his clothes. They're in the way." There was a pause in the repulsive noises, and Ed peaked out of the corner of his eye to see what was happening. To his horror, Macabé literally tore his clothing off his body, exposing him to the cold air and prowling eyes and fingers. What happened next, well… Edward wished it was something he could forget.

* * *

 _Dear Colonel Mustang,_

 _Sorry for inconveniencing you, but I'm going to take a leave of absence for a while. A month or so just to clear my head. Don't worry, I'll be safe. I'm a dog of the military, remember?_

 _Sincerely, Edward_

The note claiming to be Edward Elric screamed 'look at me, I'm pretending to be the Fullmetal Alchemist!' It was the most asinine note Alphonse had ever come across. Which was saying something considering his brother had been kidnapped on more than one occasion. Except, this was different. Mustang and his men, and even himself, were just assuming that his Ed was kidnapped.

Alphonse had paced in his room all day, fretting over his brother's well-being. Was Ed really so mad that he didn't want to come home? What if Alphonse had driven him away, no longer wishing to have a brother who pressed such sensitive issues? Not that Alphonse thought he was in the wrong or anything; but with Edward missing, even when it came to his team, kidnapping was all they could assume.

It was by the time the night had fallen, and the rain had dissipated to a large degree, that Alphonse felt it safe to venture into its depth, and demand answers from the Colonel. Well, he hadn't initially intended to demand answers, but looking at a note which had been given to them _hours_ earlier, he felt a little short fused.

Mustang sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. He currently sat in the chair behind his desk, watching Alphonse carefully as he read the note. When Alphonse made no sound for more than a minute, it must have triggered his defeat, and Alphonse could visibly see Mustang droop. Oh. That's right. Alphonse wasn't the only one who cared about what happened to his brother. He let his arm drop to its side, the note still clutched in his hollow glove.

"Some of my men are searching for clues, but not much has popped up." The information he gave seemed like something he'd been rehearsing for a while.

"I see.." was what Al could convey aloud. Maybe they were wrong. Maybe Ed really did take a leave of absence.

"I'm sorry, Alphonse. We know this must be hard for you to hear." Hawkeye spoke up from her corner of the room, wishing she could give Al a better answer as to his missing brother.

"Yeah," he acknowledged, giving a quick nod. He wished he could feel exhausted, so that he could pass out and not have to _think._ Even so, his soul ached, fiercely weighing him down. Was there such a thing as being emotionally distraught for a soul with no body? If anyone were to tell him no, Alphonse would outright laugh in their face. How could anyone, never having experienced the horrors of living - but literally not breathing, ever truly know the answer to that question?

Well, Alphonse did. Perhaps he should write a book.

Before much else could be said, the door to the office opened, with Havoc and Falman walking in with a rush.

"Tell me what you found, Havoc. Falman. It better be good." Mustang growled, impatient that it had already taken hours for them to come up with answers.

"Sir, we think that your assumptions were correct. There is evidence near a small shop several blocks from here of a skirmish. We were unable to find any indication that there was blood loss, what with the rain and all, but there's a definitive dent in the brick. Not to mention, the shop owner confessed to having seen some people fighting in front. The bonehead didn't even think to do anything about it." All this was said quickly, leaving Havoc slightly out of breath.

The room was tense as everyone took in his words. Falman then cleared his throat, and all eyes were on him.

"We were able to track down some civilians who witnessed a young blonde boy using alchemy earlier today. Their description fits the description of the Fullmetal Alchemist through and through."

Throughout the looks in the room, Alphonse could see the worried creases of everyone's brow as they processed the information. Alphonse, himself, was unsure what to think or feel at that moment. His brother had gotten himself in many skirmishes, several of which ended in his kidnapping. So, when they thought about it, they really shouldn't be that worried, right? However, there was that one detail 'there's a definitive dent in the brick' that had Alphonse on edge. Edward never went down that easily. Except he was usually more destructive in a fight.

Worry in Alphonse's mind went from a low level to high alert. Something was wrong this time. Yet, what more could he do? Alphonse looked out the window, at the sea of blackness that the day had now become. How much time had passed since Ed was taken? Moreover, why did his kidnappers not even notify the military of his absence? Why leave a note pretending to be him? What could they possibly want from his brother?

Alphonse wanted to collapse in on himself. He could feel the darkness spreading, and his vision darkening at his thoughts went inward. He briefly wondered if this is what a panic attack felt like. Even though he didn't have a body, the pressure on his soul seemed almost overwhelming. He barely heard the sound of his own armor shaking from the sheer fright he felt.

"Alphonse!" A voice phazed through the haze of his thoughts, "Alphonse! Are you alright?" Alphonse gasped, suddenly realizing that all eyes were on him.

"Uh, yeah. I'm... I'm fine." He heard a hand tenderly grab his shoulder.

"It's okay to be worried, Alphonse. We all are." Hawkeye's voice was soft, her eyes filled with a warmth Alphonse remembered only vaguely. A gaze he was sure his mother had for him once upon a time.

"I just hope that we find Brother before anything bad happens to him." As worried as he was, Alphonse felt this innate desire to make sure everyone around him felt better about the situation. He had to laugh at himself, as he was sure this feeling only existed due to his brother always shouldering the guilt.

"We'll find your brother, Alphonse. You can count on it." Mustang assured him. When Mustang gave his word, you knew that he was going to fulfill it. Though his worry never subsided, Alphonse was gratified with the knowledge that they _would_ find his brother and bring him home. _Just_ please _be okay, Brother._ Why was it that whenever it came to incredibly important parts in his life, Alphonse was always at the mercy of others?

First, being at the mercy of truth. Second, at the mercy of Ed sacrificing a part of himself in order to save him. Third, always at the mercy of the military. Especially when it came to matters dealing with the Fullmetal Alchemist. His big brother. His only family. Times like this, he felt just as useless as Mustang in the rain. But it was an oxymoron, really, when at the same time he was filled with joy to see so many people who cared about _his_ brother.

Who could have predicted this outcome of their lives? What would have become of them had they never performed human transmutation? Would they still have this network of people who would do anything to make sure he and Edward were safe and sound? Despite the relationship between Ed and Mustang, Alphonse knew without a doubt that the mutual respect between the two existed.

"Thank you," Alphonse whispered to the chattering group. Even though the hour was late, Mustang was giving orders, and everyone hustled to follow them.

* * *

 **Yeah... heart breaking right? But it was necessary! Don't hate me! xD Anyway R &R because that always makes me want to write more :D and btw...**

 **MERRY CHRISTMAS! I truly hope everyone enjoys a good christmas! And if you aren't someone who enjoys christmas, I hope that whatever you do celebrate, it fills you with joy. :D**

 **Ja'ne**


	4. Chapter 4

**Happy New Years Eve everyone! It's been one crazy week for me xD I hope that you've all had a much better week than I! Thank you so much to IzXRose, Attackoneverything, clingykawa, kas3y, gunsAndROSES2656, and Nobodyloser16 for reviewing! I can't tell you how happy it's made me to read your reviews. I sincerely appreciate everything you've all got to say. :D**

 **I try to keep the character's in character, but please forgive me if they happen to be a little bit out of it. My intentions with the way Ed reacts have a lot to do with the Shou Tucker episode and the Scar episode (where he goes after Ed.)**

 **I've also discovered that having a 1 week limit per chapter is a good thing. That way, even if you question your chapters, you're not stuck on them. :D**

 **Now... on to Chapter 4!**

* * *

Chapter 4

How could Mustang describe the panic welling deep within his stomach? Something felt different about this kidnapping, and he did _not_ appreciate or welcome it. Over the years, as he'd grown in the ranks, Mustang had learned to trust that initial instinct. Without a doubt, every time it appeared, something horrible happened. _You better be alright, Fullmetal, otherwise I'm going to have to knock some sense into your tiny self._

Mustang was not known for his sentimentality. At least, not publically. Only one person really knew that he was only human (he denied claims from his crew that he wasn't a pompous asshole. He had an image to keep!) though under the surface of it all, his crew knew just as well as Hawkeye the kind of man their commanding officer was.

Even concentrating on their work, the anxiety oozed through the air of the office. Most especially from Mustang himself. Or rather, his anxiety dominated the room by way of his grumblings. Every so often, a curse could be heard in his office. In normal circumstances, snickers could be heard by his fellow team members, but this day, many of them agreed with their commanding officer.

It was already half-way through the next day, and Mustang couldn't have felt more disgusted with his superior officers by the minute. As soon as it was kosher to speak with someone of higher ranks about needing permissions, Mustang was on the job. The more men out looking for Fullmetal, the better in his book. However, the second he brought up the note that was left behind, the disbelief in his superior officers eyes spoke volumes. The next words out of his mouth Mustang practically didn't need to hear when it was near identical to what he could see plainly on the man's face.

"What do you mean you won't give me more men?"

"Just what you understand, Colonel. This note clearly states that the Fullmetal Alchemist is taking a leave of absence. If, after a month, he doesn't make his presence known to the military, we can then assume the worst."

What the hell did they think they're doing? "A month might be too late! We need reinforcements and backup now!" Mustang growled, his balled fists making a direct statement that he was none too happy with this development. His superior officer stepped up mere inches from his face, irritation plainly seen.

"Whatever the case may be, Colonel, we follow protocol here in the military. You would do well to remember that." They stared at each other for another moment before Mustang brought a hand up in salute, grudgingly replying 'sir' before twisting on his heel and leaving the office.

Since being rejected, his stomach wouldn't cease twisting in knots. It made him all the more anxious to find Fullmetal before it was too late, because this situation screamed 'he'll be dead before you find him.'

Now here he found himself, sitting at his desk, signing the damn paperwork without really looking over everything thoroughly. Every few seconds his eyes would roam to his front door, begging for Fullmetal to open the door in his own boisterous way, their banter resuming like it normally would.

Or at least to have someone from his team slam the door open with new information. Mustang had taken the initiative to send out Hawkeye and the Strong Arm alchemist to search for deeper clues. That had been hours ago. He'd expected his queen to be a while, but to have pushed past the morning and getting well into the afternoon was not the best sign one would hope for.

Mustang glared at the pile of paperwork in front of him, fighting the urge to bang his head against its thick stack. If only he'd been more careful. If only he'd made sure Ed had protection while in town. _If only_! Except, he could not keep his subordinate on a leash. Especially considering he was a state alchemist. A military of the state. Edward had to learn how to defend himself, and buck up. So far, he had done well. No complaints. Even when other kidnappings happened. Each time, the kidnapper had been detained and taken into custody within a forty-eight hour window. Finding nothing this time was too unusual.

"Dammit, Fullmetal!" He whispered again, having lost count to how many times he'd cursed Ed's name. Sighing in resignation, his fingers too antsy to do any real work, Mustang took a glance out the window. Clear blue sky. Complete opposite of the previous day. Would Fullmetal have been kidnapped (as he couldn't even be considered hostage without a ransom note) if it had been a day like today? Would other's have stopped the event from happening?

In any case, it was no use crying over spilled milk. That still begged the question: What did Fullmetals kidnappers want, if not ransom, or other some such nonsense? It was the unknown that terrified the Flame Alchemist. His mind could only come up with one possible solution, and it was already plausible that it was true. That the true intentions of the kidnappers were to harm and kill the Fullmetal Alchemist.

The idea sickened Mustang. Made his stomach twist painfully. Made him all the more restless and jittery to find Fullmetal before that happened. If anyone deserved to live a long, full life, it was the Elric brother's. They deserved to have families who loved and cared for them. Deserved to not be in a world so full of hate and fear and the harsh realities of war. Something the boys should never have been part of. Except, even if they had never committed the taboo, Mustang would have wanted to recruit them. Considering he had heard about their brilliance when he had been there a few years back, his agenda would have been the same. Recruit to further his position in the military.

Things were different now. Had been different for nearly as long as he had known the boys, and it wasn't something he could really explain. At least, not aloud. Now… now Mustang felt guilty every time Fullmetal was hurt on a mission. Sometimes, he wanted to kick him out of the military. Tell his short self to go live a normal childhood. Except… he couldn't. _They_ couldn't. They were unable to live any normal life until Alphonse was once again physically _human_. It was a sad truth of their childhood turned adulthood.

"Dammit all," Mustang groaned again, swiveling his chair to face the stack of papers. Waiting was the worst. Especially when Alphonse was waiting anxiously for _him_ to have an answer to Ed's whereabouts. Alphonse never strayed far from the office. If Mustang opened the door, he was certain he'd find Alphonse stewing by a chair, or reading an alchemy book, hoping for some clue to walk in.

Damn that Brigadier General for declining his request for backup! If they had more people working on this case - and Mustang was certain that was what this was - there wouldn't be any unnecessary time wasted due to lack of military efforts. He supposed if Fullmetal really _did_ take a leave of absence, it wouldn't look very good on Mustang; but any of his subordinates were worth the risk. Getting to the top was important, but so were the lives of his team. Mustang sneered at the paper he was signing. It was such a bullshitted position he found himself in, damn it!

Though he was lost in thought, Mustang heard the door to the outer area where his team worked open and close. Its sound wasn't quick, but the only two that were away from their posts were Hawkeye and Armstrong. He heard murmurs outside and the clacking of armor, before the door to his space opened, revealing the two people he had been anxiously waiting to hear back from.

"I take it that since I never heard a phone call from either of you, it isn't looking too good out there?" The frowns on their faces were proof enough that he was correct. Hawkeye nodded giving added confirmation.

"We looked everywhere, sir. Searched the shop where Havoc and Falman saw the dented brick, as well as its surrounding area's." As stoic as her voice always was, the frown dawning Hawkeye's face alluded to her dissatisfaction.

"We found some evidences of alchemy used not too far down the road from the shop; however, nothing significant. At least, not when it comes to Edward Elric, sir." Armstrong piped up, unable to hide the gravity in his own voice. Mustang couldn't help his deepening frown. Being given information that they already knew was not something he was hoping for.

"So… you have no idea where my brother is?" Alphonse's voice caused everyone to look in his direction, no one speaking up for a moment.

"Unfortunately not. The clues are just too minimal. Unless we are able to recruit some more military to help with the search, it might take us longer than we expected to find Edward." Hawkeye glanced towards Mustang at the mention of the military.

"Unfortunately, any extra help that we were hoping to have is not going to be given."

"What!?" The Strong Arm alchemist looked shocked, "what is this betrayal of our very own military!"

"Did they give any reason why, sir?" The polite tone in Hawkeye's voice was a little _too_ polite.

"The note given from 'The Fullmetal Alchemist'" here, Mustang propped quoted fingers up to show his disdain, "was enough proof for them not to send out a search party for the month."

"This is an outrage!" cried the Strong Arm alchemist, "such betrayal would never be found in the Armstrong family! Having each other's back has been in the Armstrong family for generations! And I, Alex Louise Armstrong, promise to not let go of that long-standing tradition for as long as I live!" Tears had unashamedly begun to fall down his face as Alphonse awkwardly tried to back away from an unprecedented hug. Hawkeye planted a palm against her face at his theatrics, all the while Mustang smirked, feeling grateful that there were such men in the military outside of his own team.

That smirk soon turned into a sigh, following the sound of hands slamming against his desk as Mustang stood. He stared at his desk for a moment before walking around and towards the three in his office.

"I think it's time that we did some detective work. We need to find Fullmetal as quickly as we can. So for now, we can assume that his kidnappers have ill intentions toward him and us. Something bigger could be at work here and we need to nip it in the bud before it blossoms."

Mustang dearly wished that he could speak with Hughes right then. If Hughes had been around, the underground dirty work would be far less annoying to have to deal with, as he wouldn't have to do the annoying details. He'd much rather face his enemy head on than spend his time in the shadows. That wasn't to say he wasn't good at it, however. No, Mustang had had his fair share of detective work in his blotted and stained past. Almost every time was successful. He couldn't let this time be an "almost". Wasn't about to let it be that way.

With the short walk from his office into the open where his team worked tirelessly every day, Mustang stared them down. It was hardly necessary to gain their attention when he already had it. Hawkeye and Armstrong stood on his right side, while Alphonse moved to stand in one of the corners, his body movement giving no indication to what he was really thinking. Poor kid. If Mustang was struggling with this news, he could hardly begin to understand the pain Alphonse was feeling.

"So, what's the plan?" Feury asked, knowing they wouldn't go down without a fight. None of them liked that their youngest team member was missing. Mustang glanced at all of them. He had a good team. Picked each person to be on his team for good reason. They _would_ find Fullmetal. Of that, Mustang was certain.

"Alright. In case you didn't hear, we will not have military backup. Which means, we are on our own. Because we are on our own, we will be doing a little bit of our own dirty work. I will need each and every one of you to be on the lookout from the moment you step outside for any signs of Fullmetal. I, myself, will be going to talk to a couple of friends that are trustworthy enough and well accustomed to these kinds of situations." Nods were seen halfway through his speech.

"We're already on day two of Fullmetal's disappearance. Let's not let it get too much longer than that. Understood?"

"Sir!" A unanimous chorus was heard, each team member saluting their superior officer. Satisfied, Mustang left the paperwork on his desk to be done another time, heading home to change into civilian clothing then straight to Madame Christmas to hopefully gather hidden information.

* * *

Blackness of night was all Edward saw. His eyes looked up, emotionless, at the ceiling now blanketed with a veil of dark that came when night fell.

How long had it been since they had touched him?

Toyed with him?

Defiled him?

Throughout the entirety of the experience, not once had they released Ed from his shackled prison. It left him more weak, sore, and sick than he had been since he'd been kidnapped. Even as Macabé and Karly dressed themselves, watching Ed as they did so, his stomach flopped unfavorably before he quickly turned his head and hunched sideways - as much as he possibly could - to throw up on the floor next to him. Very little came out, and he could almost care less that some of it landed on his bare skin. Almost. What little he did throw up, the site of its white color made him gag and dry-heave a second round. He gasped heavily, trying to spit out the horrendous taste in his mouth.

Sweat and scratches covered his body from head to toe. His hair, so mussed up and oily that it clung to his face (stinging the wound on his cheek) no longer held its long braid. His breath, no matter how hard he tried to control it, came out ragged. Macabé and Karly never bothered to dress him again (not that he had any clothes that weren't now ruined,) though Karly did throw Macabé's used and sticky dress-shirt over his lower torso. His cut and bruised leg, having been trapped underneath its wooded prison, felt a little too swollen. A little too torn and rubbed raw. He could hardly stomach a glance at his leg when he realize that the skin which had been rubbed raw no longer consisted of a range near his ankle. It made him queasy to think about it.

How could this have happened?

How could he ever face Alphonse again?

Why? Why couldn't Mustang and his team have found him before any of this had happened?

 _Why the hell!_

Silent tears came unbidden to his eyes for the umpteenth time that day as he stared out at the now darkened sky. He hardly noticed the goosebumps which littered his body from the cold, nor could he tell if the goosebumps were actually because of the cold or because of his shaking. Shaking that had nothing to do with the cold at all. His eyes hurt. Not only from the constant crying that he was unable to control, but also because of the images his mind couldn't unsee. His head pounded from a headache that had begun a while back, and his heart (which couldn't seem to stop thumping) was in agony.

He was grateful for the privacy that the room provided, no matter how cold it was. While he had been defiled and used in the most grotesque manner (unable to block out what he had seen,) Ed still had some pride left. He didn't want them to see the tears he shed when no one was looking.

His privacy - what little he _did_ have - was shattered soon enough. When the sound of the door creaked open, Ed flinched, whipping his head in its direction to see his captor, the impostor, the fake, walk in. He looked unconcerned as he closed the door and flipped on the light with a gloved hand. Ed winced at its brightness, blinking a few times to let his eyes adjust to the artificial rays.

Seeing his captor look him over, Ed couldn't help the feelings of shame well up inside him, and embarrassment at being naked in front of this man. No, this _kid_ who thought he could do whatever the hell he wanted just because he wanted to become someone else.

Not watching the fake stare at him, Ed heard his sigh rather than saw it.

"This place has suddenly gotten a rotten smell to it. I wish you wouldn't throw up on my nice wooden floor. That'll be hard to get out."

"As if you actually care," Ed whispered, angry that he was afraid of what this _fake_ would do to him.

"Now now, Ed, be nice. Remember what happened the last time," The rebuke angered Ed. What an asshole! Ed wished he had more strength to deck the guy in the face. Fake Edward walked slowly into the room, shutting the door behind him, coming to a halt less than a foot away from Ed.

"If you weren't so belligerent, and making such a fuss, things would go so much faster."

"Faster doesn't make better," Ed mumbled, unable to look his captor in the eye.

"True! Sometimes slow is necessary to be able to enjoy some occasions." He closed the gap between them and knelt in front of Ed, casually reaching a hand to trace some cuts on his skin. Ed hissed, flinching his scraped back against the wall trying to avoid the touch. The hand only lost contact for a second, before reaching up to cup his cheek for a moment, then slapping hard against the slowly healing wounds.

Edward kept his mouth shut, eyes squeezed tight, muffling any cry of pain that would have sounded. No way in hell would he give this impostor the satisfaction of making him cry out. If he had to cut his lip or even bite his tongue to stay silent, he would do it. Fake Edward dusted off his hands briefly, before standing.

"If I want to become you, Edward Elric, I need to see how you react to certain situations. You're such a brave soul to be a part of the military, especially when so much hurt and destruction is caused from it. I just can't help but feel that you deserve a rest. You deserve to have someone take your place so you don't need to be there anymore. In order for me to really be able to be you, for us to be truly the same, I need to see for myself what you do. That way, when the time comes to take your place, it will be as if you never left. Our brother deserves that much, doesn't he?"

" _Shut up,"_ Ed grit out, breathing heavily.

"I know it's tough to understand right now, but I'm going to put you out of your misery. In the end, you'll thank me for taking your place." He patted Ed's head endearingly, a look of pity on his face. Then after a moment fake Edward made a noise, as if remembering something, all the while stuffing a hand in the pocket of _Ed's_ coat. "You can stay here in this nice room so that you don't have to suffer the malicious intents of the military anymore."

"You're no different than them when you keep me chained up like this, you bastard." A cough found its way up and out of Ed's mouth, the sound coming out weakly. The fake Edward cocked his head, a darker glint in his eyes at the curse word.

"Me? No different from them? I don't catch your reasoning. You're here to help us both out. In the end, you'll be grateful."

"Grateful my ass," Ed mumbled, glaring with as much loathing as he possibly could create. Why the hell did the guy think he could take Ed's place at all? In the first place, the guy was tall- ( _ack! You're not small!)_ well, not quite the same height as him. That spoke volumes in Ed's book.

As the wannabe paced, talking quietly to himself, Ed watched him warily. This kid was bad news. Something wrong with him in the head. It was people like him that you stayed away from. Made sure you weren't friends with because they're crazy. Fake Edward held his hand closed over whatever it was he pulled out of his pocket, giving Ed a once over.

"You're pretty strong for such a young alchemist." He stated, contemplatively. "I half wonder what it would take to break you.." The thought caused another once over, musing "that could be good research."

Edward squinted, wishing he could block the sound from his ears. He was pretty sure that whatever the kid was talking about, it was not something he wanted to be a part of. _Damn you, Mustang. I swear, if you don't find me quickly, I'm gonna beat you to a bloody pulp!_

Irrational though his thought may be, cursing his commanding officer was the only thing that comforted him in this living nightmare.

"How old are you, anyway?" Ed rasped, hoping to divert the guy's thoughts.

"Me?" His look-a-like asked with some surprise, "why, I'm fifteen and a half, of course!" A skeptical brow rose on Ed's face.

"No, you moron, what's your real age?"

"Age doesn't matter. What's important is that I make everything the same!" He smiled, fake innocence plastered on his face. Feeling braver for just a moment, Ed couldn't help the eye roll.

"Fat chance of you pulling this off. Tch. Crazy coot." Ed glanced down at his body, seeing goosebumps risen on his flesh. He'd almost forgotten that the cold air from the open window, having been hot because of… well, he refused to let his thoughts go any further as bile stirred in the back of his throat.

"In any case, preparations must be started for the rest of your time here! I need to make sure everything is in its proper order." He bent his tiny form forward, hovering over Ed, "Now," With surprising speed, the fake's hand shot out to roughly and painfully grab a clump of Edward's hair, tugging his head just a little too high to be comfortable. "Be a good alchemist and keep your eyes open."

"What!" Ed's eyes went wide, staring down a bottle liquid in his captor's hand which he tantalized in front of Ed. An exhausted fear overwhelmed Ed, and he tried to thrash out of the fakes grasp, but the action only brought more pain. "Stop!" He yelled, afraid what the liquid would do to him, "keep that away from me, dammit!" In an effort to halt the impostors progress, Ed did the opposite of what the creep wanted and slammed his eyes closed.

The wannabe tsked, the sound loud in his ear.

"If you don't make an effort to cooperate, I'm going to have to bring Karly and Macabé in here." Ed couldn't quite contain the whimper that escaped his lips. The very _idea_ that they would be back scared Ed. But then, so did whatever this bastard was trying to do to him. There was no better option.

Even so, he couldn't bring himself to actually open his eyes, thereby knowing that his assaulters would come back. The fake sighed, but held fast to Ed's hair, so much so that Ed worried his hair would be pulled out forcefully. He didn't even want to contemplate how _that_ would feel.

"Come now, my fellow alchemist. It's not going to hurt. This I can promise you." Ed held fast, scoffing at the ridiculous promise given. If he wasn't planning on hurting Edward, he wouldn't be in this position right now. Edward made no plan to open his eyes, not wanting to know what that liquid would do. The fake had mentioned something earlier about eyedrops, but that was so long ago and so much had happened since then, Ed's brain couldn't quite bring up the memory.

"Leave me alone!" Ed yelled, pain wrangling his voice. His breathing was hard, his chest puffing with strain, engulfing him in the pinprick pain that hundreds of nicks and cuts caused. Still, fake Edward held firmly to his hair, nails digging into his skull.

"Fine, then. You leave me no choice." Ed could careless about the irritation in his kidnapper's voice. He did, however, care about having to see the other two.

"Wait!" Ed cried out, feeling his eyes well up from the pain, "I'll open my eyes!" And he did as he said, opening his eyes to see a close up smirk of his captor. The fake held the bottle of liquid near his face.

"Good choice. Now…" Fake Edward moved his the hand holding the liquid upside down, allowing a drop to form on the tip of the bottle. He wrenched Ed's head backwards, so all Ed could see was the ceiling and the oncoming drop of liquid to his pupil. Ed tried not to panic, he really did; but when his head was forcefully thrown into an uncomfortable position and the looming doom headed toward his eyes, he couldn't help the automatic response to shut his eyes closed.

"Ah ah," the fake reprimanded, "you only get one more chance. I won't hesitate next time to call in Karly or Macabé." The warning was enough for Ed. He did the best he could, terrified of what the liquid would do to him. He didn't get much time to ponder that question for, as soon as his eyes opened, a droplet fell and landed on his pupil. Immediately, Ed's eyes closed again, this time from the shock and cold the drop created. Relief filled his chest when Ed realized that his eye was not searing with a fiery pain.

"Come now, Edward, I need to do the next one." Fake Edward shook Ed's head just a little in his impatience. Edward winced, deciding he had nothing more to lose as there had been no pain from the first drop. Except, as soon as Ed opened his eyes, the blurry difference was noticed immediately.

"What the hell did you do!" Ed exclaimed, angrily. Not only could he _not_ focus his eye, he could barely leave it open for more than a second. The light from above too bright for his now dilated pupil.

Far more enraged than he had been since he was first kidnapped, Ed was not willing to be the patient and obedient captive any longer. He thrashed, willing the chains to break, even with how weak he felt.

For all that he struggled... the more he resisted... the greater and painfully inflamed the grip in his hair became. Fake Edward growled.

"Open your damn eyes! I don't want to do anything worse to you right now; but mark my words, if your eyes don't open, you will live to regret it!" Spittle landed on Ed's cheek, his ear ringing from the low scream conveniently next to it. Ed's shaking became more visible, as fear wracked through him. His knowledge of the sciences gave him enough insight to know that dilation drops were only temporary, but that still begged the question: what would he do if he couldn't see? How would he escape this damn hellhole?

It took great effort to listen to his masochistic captor. Which annoyed him to a small degree; and it annoyed Ed, that he felt so terrified not being able to focus his one eye.

A heavy pressure pressed against his other cheek. He smelled Fake Edward's disgusting breath in his nose. When he opened only his good eye, Ed could barely see the crazy look in the fake's. His tongue stuck out, as if he were working really hard to accomplish a task. Ed supposed that was true to some degree. Unfortunately, Ed was unable to fully process the look on his imposter's face for more than a few seconds as, in their struggles against each other (one resisting, while the other held tight) out of his peripheral, Ed could make out a drop which landed in the eye that had not already been forcibly dilated.

His head automatically tried to move away, but it was to no avail.

As soon as the drops were in his eyes, the fake dropped Ed's head, allowing for Ed to plump the small distance painfully on his bare butt. He squeezed his eyes tightly, panting, feeling sweat and possibly blood fall down his temple on either side. They must have put the liquid in his eyes earlier that day, which was why his eyes had been so sensitive to the light before. He dreaded the morning.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Fake Edward commented, rustling about, before Ed heard his hands smack together as if wiping off dust. If his eyes had been able to open at that time, he would have rolled them. Ed really wasn't _that_ disgusting. Well… he hadn't thought so before.

"Screw you, bastard" Ed snarled. The next thing he felt was a kick to his gut. Hunching over from the pain, Ed could barely catch his breath. This nightmare was going to end soon, right? Without being able to focus on anything with his eyes open, as well as the sensitivity to light he had to now deal with, Edward kept them closed for good, willing himself to fall asleep. Maybe if he slept off this nightmare, he'd wake up to find that that was all it was.

Damn, not only was he exhausted, tired, disgusted, achey, violated, and dirty, Ed only then remembered (as he concentrated inward) that he was extremely hungry. Not once had his captors given him food. It worried him a little, that they never offered even a small loaf of bread. Were their plans to torture him and watch him starve to death as they did so?

More attuned to the effects and damage done to him throughout his crappy day, Ed coughed, before cautiously changing sitting positions to make his body feel less achy. With all the cuts and bruises and skin torn off, that was the most he could do for himself. While doing so, he had momentarily forgotten about the other presence in the room. Had time really passed that slowly?

"Wow, that definitely looks uncomfortable. Sadly, we don't have any better accommodations for you." Boots thumped on the ground, close to his flesh arm. Could the guy not make a decision on where he wanted to stand? Listening, Ed's body shook as he waited, unsure of what he should be expecting. One try at opening his eyes to make out his surroundings was all he needed to know that, with the lights on, that was _not_ a good idea. A hand reached forward and patted Eds head. He flinched away from the touch, for more reasons than because of the tenderness that still resided. Turned out that he had good cause to do so. The fake's hand once again tugged on his hair, taking a massive clump. Ed pressed his eyes shut harder, trying to stay quiet, though his breathing seemed loud even to his own ears. Fake Edward bumped his head against Ed's, as if he relished in Ed's unwillingly cultured fright

"Don't worry. You won't stay here forever. Trust me." His voice of doom tone was not something that Ed was particularly fond of. Fake Edward roughly yanked his hands out of Ed's hair, before standing the small length of his height, smirking loudly as he turned and slammed the door shut. All the while never turning the light off.

* * *

 **Yeah... Fake Edward is kind of a creep, eh? xD Hope you liked this chapter!**

 **You know... I always feel like I should have more to say at the end of these, but I never remember what it is. So... until next time! Please R &R As it always makes my day! Not to mention I love hearing your thoughts. :D**

 **Ja!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey all! 'bout time I posted the next chapter, right? xD I'm so sorry for the delay! Drama at work+school starting+being incredibly behind in japanese class made my focus veer off a little bit. I promise I won't let another month go by before I post a new chapter! However, I think I'm going to have to move my posting date to every 2 weeks vs. every week. Homework and all that jazz makes it harder to put all my focus on the story, ya know.**

 **Anyway! Thank you to all who reviewed! I can't tell you how motivating it is to know people are reading my story and enjoying it! And thank you to everyone who has reviewed and followed my story! I hope it keeps your interest :D Now, I'm sure that there's more I need to say, but I can't think of what it was meant to be. SO, without further adieu... on to the story!**

* * *

Chapter 5

"Ed, wake up!" Lethargically, Ed gazed into the darkness where he heard the voice, "wake up, Ed!"

"What do you mean wake up?" He called out into its depth, feeling the watery air absorb his voice.

"Wake up, big brother!" Taken aback at the voice now calling back to him, Ed looked around, finding himself seated at the table of Shou Tucker's home, Nina and Alexander standing absurdly close to his left. He jumped, surprised to find them nearby.

"You're not...?" He questioned, feeling ultimately confused.

"Lighten up, Brother. You seem a little jumpy today." Al spoke up, seemingly out of nowhere, abruptly appearing on his right, "maybe if you got more _sleep_ you wouldn't be so on edge." Ed swiveled to stare at his brother, surprised. Al seemed a little more on edge than Ed'd anticipated.

"Look, Al, I told you, I'm _fine_." He tried to defend himself, unsure why their fight hadn't ended yet.

"Fine? FINE?" Metal hands roughly grabbed Ed's shoulders, "maybe if I wasn't still a suit of armor _I_ could be fine too!" The metallic yell stunned Ed.

"Al… I'm going to get your body back… I am. I promised, didn't I?" Except his voice lacked confidence. An anguished hurt etched his features, as Al's betrayal cut deeper than he could bear.

 _Break you_ a voice seemed to whisper behind him. Ed quickly turned to look behind him, feeling his blood boil at the sound. _I'm going to break you_ it called out to him.

"Don't come near me!" He yelled at into the void, once more engulfed in that watery air. His flesh fist shook with a rage he couldn't quite explain. "Stay away from me!"

"But Brother, weren't you going to save me?" Only Al's voice was heard in the nothingness of the void.

"Big brother! We can play once you save us!" Was the Nina-Alexander response.

"I'm so sorry..." Pain filled his voice as he forgot his fear, "I'm only an alchemist…"

 _...Alchemist._ Called that menacing voice once more. _Alchemist… Break you…_

"Like Hell!" He yelled angrily, turning in circles, trying to find a light to chase away his fear.

A sickening feeling began to grow as Ed turned to find a way out, to save him from the darkness, when he jerked awake to find Karly straddling him, her finger lazily tracing his chest. Her tongue gently caressed her teeth with a small smile as she watched her finger. The brief image was all Ed could handle before he had to shut his eyes, their sensitivity still at large; however, the effects of the dilation no longer affecting his ability to focus.

"How's my little bitch doing? Seems you were having a nightmare." Everything about her disgusted Ed. He grimaced at the nickname, unpleasant memories popping up far too quickly and easily.

"Don't call me short, you old hag," The retort was the best he could give, considering the goosebumps rising on his scratched body from her needless prodding. Karly glanced at him, irritation burning in her eyes. She shifted closer on him, moving in a way most women thought enticing to a man closer their age.

"You know what happens when you talk back, don't you?" She asked lowly. Her face was close to his. So close Ed could almost feel her lips. He turned his head, wincing as it scraped along the wall behind him. Damn it all he couldn't quit his incessant shaking! He had to do something about his situation quick before her desire and his nightmare returned for a second round. A hand snaked around his neck, stopping to squeeze the base, while the other lay a manicured nail at the base of his throat. The royal purple color must have been recently painted on as the smell caught his nose. Her tickling sensation soon ceased as the pressure became deeper. Ed knew just what was coming, and he braced himself for the pain.

"A filthy whore, such as yourself, needs to learn when he should speak, and when he should keep his disgusting mouth _shut_." The second Karly finished her sentence, her nail dug into his shaking form, using the sharp tip of her manicured nail to slowly slice down his throat. She kept her face close to Ed's, watching as her nail created a long, thin gash to the middle of his ribcage.

The pain was nothing new to Ed. It's longevity, however, was. He panted quickly, breathing through his nose, never letting his face and eyes find hers. His previous cuts and scratches had healed over just enough that the cold air in the room didn't cause a small pulse against them, but now he was once again facing the pulsing sensitivity where her nail broke skin.

A breathy laugh and strands of hair tickled his ear, before he felt her tongue lick his earlobe, biting it a little too hard for to be considered nice. _Nonononono_ Ed chanted, shaking like a leaf _damn! Gotta do something, and quick!_ It was a lot harder to concentrate when the repulsive woman was not shy about her sexuality and what she wanted. Karly slowly moved her legs from straddling him then pulled away his only form of modesty completely off. All the while placing her left knee in-between his legs, pressing uncomfortably against him.

 _This is it!_ Ed's heart beat wildly, both from fright and his quickly formed plan. He turned his head roughly, shaking her mouth off his chin. Then, as much as he could, Ed lifted his head back, gained as much momentum as possible, and headbutt the lady in the nose.

Due to her lack of concentration, Karly easily fell for the plan and instantly jumped on her heels, screaming loudly as blood gushed from a broken nose. Ed smirked to himself. That plan went a lot better than he had anticipated. Sadly, his joy was short lived as Karly then shrieked aloud, her anger something he had only seen in a Homunculus.

"You're just a filthy little whore who doesn't deserve a position as state alchemist!" She screeched, outraged at the blood spewing from her nose. Ed watched with a small amount of terror as she bent forward, one hand holding the bloody nose, while the other grabbed a tight hold of one of his wounded flesh fingers. Still having little mobility from the previous day, all Ed could do was watch as she yanked as hard as she could. This time, Ed could not stifle his gasp, lurching forward as he felt his finger being forcefully dislocated from its socket.

Karly huffed indignantly, satisfied to have hurt Ed the way he hurt her.

"You should show some respect to your elders, kid. Life doesn't always turn out the way you want it to." His situation proved her point more than she would acknowledge. Or maybe she just didn't care. In any case, Ed had to work ridiculously hard to not feel defeated. There had to be a chance for him to get out of there. A way for him to escape. He had to plan.

Ed heard, rather than saw, Karly leave the room, breathing slowly to ease the pain of his quickly swelling finger. At the same time, his stomach growled, once again reminding him the need to eat something before he dry-heaved. Maybe he would die here before he could actually escape. The way things were going, he wouldn't doubt that fact.

Cramps in his body were beginning to be a little too overwhelming, and Ed found he had to slowly lean back against the wall; breathing deep, rapid breaths as each movement caused one of his cuts and scratches to stretch and burn their complaints. If he died, what would Al do? Would Al even be alive? Or were their lives so intertwined that when Ed died, so would Al? They'd theorized that fact in a similar fashion when it came to nutrients and Al's body gaining its necessities through Ed. That when they passed through the gate, their souls crossed each other's paths. Did that equate to living and breathing as well? Ed really hoped not. After all… he had a promise to keep.

An image of Al in his suit of armor came into his mind. With his eyes closed, Ed could almost vividly see his brother, standing next to him, almost seeming amused. The only telltale sign being in his stance. If only he could see Al's smiling face again… that's really all that Ed wanted. Once Al had his body back, Ed didn't care what happened to himself. So he couldn't die… not yet… he had to find a way out. He had to…

Next, an image of Mustang popped into his mind, the smirk on the bastard colonel's face looking at him like he knew just how Ed ticked. Just as quickly, Hawkeye appeared behind Ed's eyelids, her silent support reflected in her eyes. He thought of the rest of the member's of Mustang's team, how they all knew about him and Al, yet still encouraged them both. Believed in their mission and never faltered in their faith in the two brother's. It was rather incredible that Mustang could find such a group of people in the vastness of credible options available to the military.

Ed and Al were damn lucky that they could put as much trust into this team as Mustang seemed to do. If it had been anyone else… who knew what would have happened to him and Alphonse?

"Heh," Ed muttered aloud, scooting his back just so against the wall, relieving the ache in his lower body. However brief it would be. Maybe they would rescue him. Maybe he would be lucky enough. No… no… they _would_ rescue him. Right? They would find him before it was too late, right? He wouldn't have to deal with the horrid place this building had become for much longer, right? He wouldn't have to-

The door opened swiftly, followed by the clacking of a tongue. Ed opened his eyes to look upon his perpetrator; none other than the wannabe who claimed he was Ed. Feeling too achy, and not wanting to irritate his wounds more than he had to, Ed glared at the kid. What a _joke_ that the almighty Fullmetal Alchemist was taken down by a kid not even twenty years old.

"You sure like to make life harder for yourself." The imposter sat cross-legged on the bed, watching Ed closely, "you gave Karly a good bruise on her face. Poor girl. She's not very happy with you, ya know."

"Who cares," Ed muttered, wondering the the crap the Fake's game was _now._ Why not just put him out of his misery? A loud growl of Ed's stomach stopped the words from forming on his lips. A blush of red appeared on Ed's cheeks and he glanced away, embarrassed to be caught in his hunger. Damn stomach! Why couldn't it stay quiet?

"Ah, that's right. We need to keep your energy up! What use would you be dead?" The fake clapped his hands once, as if a lightbulb had lit over his head. So, they really had forgotten that Ed was human too. What dumbasses.

He sighed, irritated. Ed'd had enough of these people. It was about time for him to get out of here. His body didn't lie as well as his mind, however. Shivers still wracked his body in spurts. Something that he could not control no matter how much he mentally scolded himself. _Damn it all, Ed! Don't look weak! It'll only spur your captors on._

Fake Edward hopped of the bed, boots landing with a loud thump. It angered Ed to see _his_ clothing on the imposter's body. Disgusted him to know that the kid even thought he could pull off the look in the first place. It made Ed not want to ever put the clothing on again. His nose cringed slightly as he warily watched the kid step next to his body, bending his knees to be eye-level with Ed. His hand shot out and painfully grabbed Ed's face, the grip too strong to pull out of; especially in his weakened state.

"You've got some strong cheekbone; and what a jawline! Your face is as smooth as a baby's bottom, too! Well, it was before you got scratches all over it. How did you manage to keep it so smooth? What keeps your skin so healthy?"

"Who the hell are you calling a baby!" Ed squished out, feeling his blood boil. If only he was strong enough to pound this kid to a bloody pulp! That'd definitely satiate Ed's desire pulverize him. Damn it all he had to get out of these chains! His hands balled into fists, an action which Ed immediately regretted. Pain shot up his flesh arm, reminding him that he did not have a workable finger at that moment. Not to mention the scraps from the day before that the Fake so dearly smashed onto his knuckles.

A sigh escaped the imposters mouth, as if he were exasperated at Edward, "you know, my fellow alchemist, if you would just cooperate, things wouldn't have to take so long. But you make it hard for me to not want to let this drag on." His hand dropped from Ed face, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"What the hell do you want from me?" Maybe Ed could get clearer answers from the freak, besides having an identity crisis.

"Hm, I don't think repeating myself will do either of us any good." He stood straight, placing hands in his pockets in a true Edward fashion. It creeped Ed out to see his own mannerisms being reflected in this imposter. How long had the kid been watching him from the darkness? When he thought about it, the whole thing actually scared Ed a little, to know he had been watched so thoroughly. Not to mention, seeing an image of himself in someone else was eerie enough.

Ed let out a little cry when a boot walked directly on his ankle. Beads of sweat that had finally disappeared now reappeared, the sound of Ed's labored breathing filling the silence of his unanswered question. The bastard had intentionally stepped on his leg! When Ed got out of this place, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to hold back on the kid; because he had to face the facts, there _would_ be a showdown between the two. Ed just couldn't figure out why he felt panicked at the idea.

Weary, pain-filled golden eyes watched the red of his coat swish loudly to the sound of flesh arm _s_ moving so effortlessly towards the door. The creak was loud in Ed's ears as it opened widely. A wash of cold air followed the movement, sweeping over his naked frame. Ed shivered. He was pretty sure if he didn't get some kind of medicine to help him heal, he would get sick. He was no doctor, but that much was obvious.

Less than ten minutes later, Macabé walked in, holding a tray of bread, soup, and a cup of water. The size alerting the user that they would get no more than two cups out of it. Macabé bent over to place the tray of food on the floor next to Ed, a half smile crossing his features as he looked Ed over. Ed wished more than ever that he had some modesty. He had never felt so much shame than when Macabé looked at him with a leering gaze, eyes hungering for what Ed could astutely assume was far too inappropriate for him to desire.

"The soup is particularly delicious," Macabé pointed out. His finger twitched too much, the never-ending need to move a part of his body always present. The second Macabé suggested it, Ed gagged at the very idea of the soup being delicious. Especially when Macabé had insinuated the phrase to mean something completely different. What it was he meant underneath the innocent, Ed felt absolutely no desire to know.

Memories of a few hours previous popped into Ed's mind with unwanted speed. With the memories came the fear, and panic. His heart rate sped up, his breathing staggered. All Ed wanted to do right then was hide under a blanket and cry for help. It was unequivocally too bad that his innocence had been taken away so long ago.

"Get the hell out," Ed growled, hoping he could cuss the guy to death. Once he gained his strength, Macabé and Karly were going to pay for what they had done. Ed ignored the fact that the idea of having to face them in battle again could result in the same ending. Macabé stared at him, amused, before sighing with a smile, swishing a hand through his hair.

"Oi, kids these days, think they can do and control whatever they want." He knelt down, bring his face next to Ed's, whispering in his ear, "well I've news for you, kid." Rough-skinned fingers drew circles on his chest, "some situations can only be experienced." He licked Ed's ear, then laughed when Ed flinched away.

"I swear, you'll be dead when the colonel bastard hears about this." Ed threatened with as much confidence that he could muster. It was an empty threat, however. Ed had no intentions of _ever_ telling anyone about what had happened to him. He couldn't bare the shame or the pity that would surely be reflected in their eyes. For now, it was enough. Macabé, though, found the statement hilarious.

"I'm not the buffoon you think I am, kid. I'm stronger than I look." He displayed his biceps which did, in fact, have a decent amount of muscle tone to them. Well, he wasn't alone in that fact. Ed had a fair amount of muscle tone himself. Just because Macabé was taller and older didn't mean squat to Ed. Not to mention, with Mustang fighting alongside him, Macabé would pee his pants to have to go up against the Flame Alchemist.

A part of Ed hoped that Mustang would burn Macabé, Karly, and his impostor. None of them seemed to have a real, concrete reason to be hurting Ed, except that they found some sort of sick enjoyment for it.

His thoughts were roughly shaken away, and Ed froze when wandering hands traveled too low. Touched too intimate of places. _No! I can't let it happen again!_ But his body wouldn't move, except to shake in fear. He would just have to go with the same plan he faced with the enchantress. Somehow, Macabé was just as close to him as Karly had been. So, ignoring the pain that movement caused, Ed quickly threw his head forward to bash into Macabé's.

The effect was a success. Macabé fell backwards, clutching his bloody nose, a look of shock etching his face. He dabbed at the blood, looking at it for a second before holding his nose once again.

"Wow, kid. You've got some muscle in that forehead of yours!" Surprised, Ed blinked at the opposite reaction Macabé had in comparison to the terrible seducer, Karly. Okay… maybe he would be amused enough to leave Ed in peace. Ed wasn't sure if he could handle another session of that vulgar act.

With a laugh, Macabé stood up, still clutching his nose, though unsuccessful at stopping the dripping of blood on the wood.

"You've got some guts kid! Better eat up. You'll need your strength." He continued to laugh as he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Ed glanced down to his left. He stared at the food, wondering how he was even supposed to eat the stuff. For some reason, his captors felt the need to make everything happen on the side of his flesh arm. The side which was of little use to him at the moment. Ed wasn't even sure he'd be able to pick up the bread off the tray, his hand hurt that much.

Bending over wasn't a possibility either, as the floor was too far away for him to be able to reach with his face (the wounds he'd acquired the cause of his discomfort.) Though he could feel his body gaining strength back (he no longer felt like he couldn't move as the effects of whatever they had done to him the day before must have rubbed off) the twisting in his gut made it less obvious that movement was something he wanted to do.

Looking at the food, Ed's mouth watered. He wouldn't have been surprised if his pupils dilated in anticipation of something to fill his stomach. A part of him couldn't even care that just moments ago Macabé had made the soup lose its appeal, he was that hungry.

Maneuvering himself so that his elbows rested on the ground, Ed made to scoot the tray under his leg, wincing and groaning as he did so. _Geez, this is just too damn exhausting_ he griped inside, wishing that he didn't have to work so hard for such a lame-ass meal. But it just looked so _good._ Drool appeared at the corner of his mouth, as Ed made strained effort to pick up the glass of water with his teeth. Perhaps, if he placed it in his automail hand, he'd be able to drink it at least semi-normally. The idea was endearing enough that he went for it, his movements slow and hazard.

Never ever would Ed tell anyone how much he craved food right at that moment. Not the Bastard Colonel, not Hawkeye, not Alphonse. No one. Nor would he ever let them know just how embarrassing his situation was. How pathetic he felt. Naked and willing to push through the pain just so he could have a drink of water and a bite of what looked like stale bread. What had his life been reduced too? At that moment, Ed wasn't sure how it could get any worse.

He picked up the water, then realized his position wouldn't help him place the cup in his metal hand. Cursing without speaking, Edward slowly shifted his body back to his sitting position, before realizing his body ached too much to go back to that stiff spot. He nearly dropped the glass of water, his teeth clenched so hard. Droplets made their escape down Ed's chin as he moved. What he couldn't give to be sitting on that nice bed. Bastards.

Maneuvering his body to a similar position as before, Ed glanced at his metal arm and the short chain it was connected to. _Damn it_ why couldn't he break that stupid chain! Or at least _rip_ the blasted flooring up to free his arm. His body shook at the mere thought of bending over. His lower torso was extremely sore, and stretching his backside, while simultaneously crunching in on the wounds covering his stomach, was not an idea Ed was fond of. Even so, he wanted to drink, and he wanted to be able to gulp every last drop of water; and he would damn well do it even if it killed him (a possibility he didn't rule out.)

Ten minutes and watery eyes later, Ed had at last placed the cup in his automail hand. The joy and relief Ed felt was incomparable to anything he had felt in a long while. The knowledge that he would get to satiate his thirst… his mouth salivated again at the very idea. Only problem, Ed would have to bend over for a second round. Disappointment filtered through his entire being at the prospect. He could do this, he could do this, he could do this...

There was a saying Ed had once heard, that if you imagined yourself in a situation, it would be more likely to happen that way. While he wasn't quite sure if this applied, Ed imagined himself taking swift gulps of the cold goodness and sitting up quickly, thereby cutting the pain by at least thirty seconds. It was as good a shot as any.

Resolved, Ed opened his eyes, his gaze immediately directed at the water, took a deep breath, and lunged forward. Tears worked the corners of his eyes while he held the cup to his mouth, drinking as fast as possible.

The action took less than a minute, but by the time Ed had his back parallel to the wall, he felt far too exhausted. Had it not even been two days since he was taken? His brow clenched at the receding pain from newly opened cuts and stretched backside. Ed refused to think anymore about the cause of his sore body, as every time images threatened to invade, his lip would tremble and he would feel the need to cry. Ed had already cried once. He couldn't allow himself to show weakness to them anymore. Couldn't allow them the satisfaction of breaking him. Like hell he would let them break him, anyway! As if he would.

"Hah..." Ed halfheartedly laughed at his idiocy. What a fool he'd make of himself if they did. Grime-filled strands of hair fell across closed golden eyes as Ed's head drooped, huffing from the exertion. He had to get out of here. He just _had_ to!

Ed looked up at at the sunlit room, the chilly air streaming through at a steady pace. Goosebumps seemed to be a part of his entire being (as he'd felt them for more than several hours now,) that Ed no longer consciously noticed them. He could barely remember what it meant to be warm. Half-lidded eyes looked out the window, and Ed wondered. His mind a drifting sea of images, cravings, and the need for time to move backwards. Ed listened as a bird chirped in the distance, calling out to its friend (or was it family member? Who actually knew these things?)

What was it like, to be out in the sun? Ed was beginning to forget. _How ridiculous… to be so pathetic…_ He could imagine himself and Alphonse playing outside on the grass in front of their house, pretending they were almighty alchemists ready to save their country from the bad men of Drachma. Or even Cretia. Weary eyes closed to the twitch of Ed's mouth lifting at the memory.

Alphonse! He had to get back to his brother!

Golden eyes, now flared with determination, popped open. His blood pulsed with his desire to see his family again. Hardly giving it more than a second thought (enough time to listen for footsteps outside the door) before Ed clenched his automail fist, breathing quickly, barely registering that the tensed muscles opened a few wounds. He clenched his teeth, then pulled his arm as much as he possibly could, desperately trying to keep his mouth closed, not wanting to alert the enemy.

He couldn't help a few cries escaping his mouth as he could feel his exertion draining what little energy he had acquired from his determination.

"C'mon, damn floor! _Break!"_ Talking made him feel better, as if his words were encouraging. Ed watched the floor as it creaked and groaned, resisting Ed's efforts. " _Please!_ " He begged, willing the inanimate floor to listen to his pleas.

Then, with a stroke of the floor cracked under pressure, and Ed pulled harder, hunching over. Sweat came quickly, falling off his chin effortlessly. His eyes clenched as Ed begged. It really was too bad that he had to put so much effort into becoming free so soon into his escape.

Then, what felt like hours, the floorboard gave way to allow the tail end of Ed's chained arm free. Ed painfully slammed back into the wall as the resistance was lost. A loud bang and a dizzy head resulted in his freedom. Ed's head lulled forward for a second from the pain.

"Ow..." he grumbled, trying not to place metal against open wound. Ed hardly cared about the dizziness, as it passed quickly. Ed brought his free arm in front of his lowered head. The strongest part of his body was free! At least… one end was. Now he had to free his legs, then his other arm… the idea was exhausting.

"What are you complaining for? You're the Fullmetal Alchemist!" Ed berated himself, then it dawned on him. How could he have forgotten so easily? He was the _Fullmetal Alchemist!_ He didn't need some damn cruddy drawn transmutation circle. He had seen the Truth. He nearly giggled with glee when he slowly moved his automail hand to his useless flesh hand. "You're not gonna be so useless now, are you?"

Oh geez, now he was talking to his body parts.. he really needed to speak with some sane people before he became as looney as his captors. Ed stopped before his automail touched flesh. His hand shook, the movement pulsating pain up his arm from the dislocated finger. It was either push through the pain, or deal with the consequences of half-escaping. Yeah… no way would he let his efforts go to waste.

Sucking it up, Ed lightly placed his hands together, biting his lip to not make any noise, then after he felt the familiar power rush through him, pressed his hands to the floor, concentrating on removing chains and make-shift wooden cuffs. The freedom was a relief, and Ed sagged onto his flesh elbow, breathing heavily. He was free! He could make his escape! Shit, it was the middle of the day, what was he thinking? Ed looked over at the door in his half fallen state, and listened, praying to the sky that all that noise he'd made went unheard. He waited for a few minutes, allowing himself some time to gain his breath and energy, all the while making sure he wasn't gonna get caught any time soon.

To his relief, the buffoon's weren't making their way to his make-shift cellar. Ed thanked his lucky stars for that. Now… all he had to do was stand up, move to the door, make sure no guards stood on the other side (which he highly doubted, otherwise they'd have burst in by now,) then find the door which led to the outside. To his freedom. After that, all he had to do was find a place to be hidden from the crazies in house A, give Mustang a call, be rescued, and have the bloody shit beaten out of his captors. Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy.

Hah, right. If Ed wasn't so weak, he'd have laughed aloud. He really was cracked himself up sometimes.

Ed glanced down at himself when he remembered that he was stark naked. Not particularly kochere when in the presence of other people. Normal people, anyway. He'd be taken into custody right away, probably thought of as a pervert himself when it was quite the opposite. When Ed thought about it, the idea was actually pretty funny. Him? In the nuthouse for being a pervert? What a twist that would be! If anyone was to go jail for being a pervert, it should be the Bastard Colonel. After all, he was the one who always had girls on the other end of the line.

"Pfft," Ed couldn't help the noise escaping, though it soon turned into a sigh. Now, what to make himself some pants with. He looked at the bed comforter, an idea forming. Its checkered pattern wasn't very fashionable, but Ed couldn't care less. Modesty was modesty, whether you looked good or not. All he had to do was scoot himself over there, pull the comforter off the bed, and transmute it into something wearable. Didn't matter that it was huge. At least, a twin size seemed that way when he needed to wear it. Whatever.

Gunning up the effort to move, Ed had temporarily forgotten about his swollen ankle until the moment he began to scoot. Pain flared in Ed's leg, and he immediately stopped, breathing in and out through his nose to squelch his cries. Limping would make escaping a lot harder.

When Ed finally grabbed the comforter, he placed it on the floor, thought up a style of jeans, then tenderly placed hands together in the standard prayer sign and initiated his transmutation. All the while praying that the light went undisturbed to those beyond the door. It was definitely times like this that Edward thanked his lucky stars that he was a genius alchemist. The transmutation went perfectly, and he even had the time to create a long-sleeved shirt in the process. Perfect for keeping him warm in the cold room! Though hideous, Ed put the clothing on in a slow fashion, keeping his ears perked in case he had to hide from the Fake or the other two.

Much too slow for his liking, Edward stood, using the base of the bed-frame to help hoist himself up. He eyed the door, glaring daggers between him and it. Now… time for his escape!

* * *

 **xD I can't remember if the comforter on the bed was checkered or not... but I was too lazy to try and find it. Sorry for any mistakes in this chapter! (I feel there may be a few...) just remember that after I finish writing it, I'll go back and edit it to improve the story for things that went funky xD Anyway... Please read and review as it ALWAYS makes my day and makes me want to write more. Super inspiring I'd say. Anyway**

 **Ja'matte ne!**


	6. Chapter 6 Part 1

**Hey Guys! I am running behind on this chapter, but I wanted to get you guy some of the chapter before the end of the day. I'm hoping to have the rest of the chapter uploaded after a few more hours, but didn't want to make you wait longer for what I've gotten so far. :D**

 **Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews! I have discovered that reviews are actually quite addicting... anyone else have that problem? lol But yes, i love reviews and they make me super happy! You guys are awesome! Enjoy this first installment of Chapter 6!**

* * *

In the beginning, even minutes and hours after they had committed the taboo and Alphonse came into consciousness as a seven-foot-tall suit of armor, he'd experienced something that had been dubbed as "phantom pain" or "phantom movements" or even "phantom itches". Where, when you don't have a limb, yet you somehow feel the need to move that missing limb, or itch somewhere on that missing limb. Except, for Al, he felt it everywhere.

He never felt the need to tell Ed, as at the time the stress the two were undergoing were far more important to occupy their time than with some silly phantom pain/itch/need to move that Alphonse was experiencing. He was sure that Ed must have been feeling the same thing too, as his brother had two missing limbs of his own. If his nii-chan had any of those irritations, he never mentioned it. However, now that Alphonse no longer needed the human necessities, he gained the skill of observation, and observe Alphonse did.

He worried obsessively as he watched his brother succumb to depression and guilt. But being a young kid of nine years old, what could he have done? What had Al learned in his short life about dealing with something so severe that he would have the words to express how to help his brother? The answer was nothing. They'd gone through everything together. They both took care of their mother when their father left, and when their mother died, all they had was each other. So what could he say?

Oh, Granny Pinako and Winry were apart of their life, but words of wisdom seldom came from Granny's mouth. At least, in the sense of how a mother would teach a child wisdom. Granny Pinako certainly had other things she felt the need the Elric brother's needed to know, but seldom was it things like "this is what you would say to someone who feels like this." It was more like, "this is how you take care of yourselves now that you live alone in that house," and feeding them dinner every day.

Alphonse sighed contentedly at the memory. It was filled with much anguish and grief, yet he cherished them dearly. Even if Alphonse was unable to fix Ed's pain, he discovered that just by being by Ed, the anxiety his brother felt lessened greatly. Though it wasn't until the day that Colonel Mustang arrived and gave Ed a reason to keep going, did Alphonse's stress levels calm down. They had a purpose again. A reason to live. Alphonse didn't have to be alone at night with thoughts that he couldn't even act on.

Alphonse would lie if he said he never wished he hadn't come back. Those were darker days for him. In the midst of taking care of his brother, making sure Ed was able to get around and do the basic functions, the night-time would come and Al would take a look at himself in the mirror. The horror that he felt that first time he truly saw himself. It was unreal. Too absurd to completely comprehend in his young developing mind. The Elric brother's might be alchemy geniuses, but the reality of binding a soul to an earthly object and be able to be your conscious self was a deep concept. How Ed was able to perform this miracle amazed Alphonse even now. For it was most certainly a miracle.

They had just been so young. So innocent. So new to the world around them. So trusting of what could be and should have been. They had been such fools; but if they could rectify that mistake, pay back the wrong they had committed, prove that they really meant no harm, perhaps the binding that tethered like spikes squeezing around their souls would release itself. What held Ed so steadfastly to his guilt would disappear like dust on the wind, and Alphonse could move on. Live life instead of standing stagnant in the middle, not belonging in the world but not really belonging in the afterlife either.

Did he belong on the earth any longer? That's what they were fighting for, him and his nii-chan. In fact, Alphonse believed that once he had his body back, he'd realize the ridiculousness that his current self felt. This was the entire reason Ed had joined the military. They needed to get their bodies back. Ed desperately needed to be free of his guilt, and Alphonse desperately needed to remember what it was like to _feel_ happiness again. Feel the blood pumping in veins that signified life. To understand what it meant to have emotions. His soul could feel, but… it was different.

 _That_ is what they were fighting for. Normality. Alphonse had been so sure that joining the military would be the best way to go about obtaining their goal. Colonel Mustang certainly believed the same thing, otherwise he would never had suggested it. Yet, how many times had they endured a kidnapping of his brother? A ridiculous amount was what. It didn't matter how stupid the situation was, or what fanatic found themselves wanting to keep the famous Fullmetal Alchemist to themselves, even if there was no real danger to be had on his brother, Alphonse couldn't stop his mind from imagining the worst possibilities.

Every time, his thoughts would turn to horrors that none would want to live through, and every time he'd breathe a sigh of relief to see his brother as sarcastic and dedicated to their cause as always once being rescued.

So, as Alphonse walked the streets of City Central, watching people go about their daily lives not realizing some major event was happening right under their noses, his eyes hardly focused-mind too far away to register where his feet were going. The way Colonel Mustang was acting was different than other times Ed had been kidnapped. Whether it was because back-up wasn't coming, or the tiny urgent tone his voice took, it worried Al.

Geez, how much would his brother make him worry? Or rather, why did it have to keep piling? If rain didn't actually kill Alphonse, he was sure that the worry would. Al sighed, leaning against the wall of a tavern, watching the crowd of people whizzle past, heading to destinations that fulfil their lives.

The sound of a bell sounded next to Alphonse, followed by the sound of sweeping. He never felt the need to acknowledge the presence, continuing his stare into the deep contours of his thoughts; that is, until the presence found themselves in front of Al, sweeping around his feet.

"Ah," Al squeaked, barely moving his armored body. His noise, however, frightened the man with the broom, and he jumped back into a defensive stance.

"Holy crap there's someone in there!"

"Hey, that's not nice." Al hunched slightly at the man who at least had the decency of looking sheepish.

"Sorry 'bout that. You surprised me." The man replied, rubbing the back of his head. Alphonse sighed.

"Don't worry about it, it happens." Especially since Alphonse had the tendency to forget to move. When you couldn't feel anything, the itch to move your body is nonexistent. The man seemed surprised by Al's voice, and the question on everyone's mind whenever Al spoke up was also on the man's lips as well.

"How old are you?"

"Fourteen," Al replied. The man's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You're rather tall for being so young."

"Yeah… I get that a lot."

The man scrutinized Alphonse, then shrugging, he went back to sweeping, before soon turning to Alphonse once again.

"You seem a little on edge. Anything I can do to help you out?"

"Ah, well, you see… I'm looking for my brother. He went missing two days ago." By this point, after knowing that all of Mustang's men had been unable to find any leads on Ed, Alphonse had little hope of being the one to gather any information.

"What's your brother look like?" The man inquired, surprising Alphonse to a degree.

"Well, he's always wearing a red coat with a flamel symbol on the back of it. He wears black leather pants and a black shirt. He's got long blonde hair that's always tied back in a braide and has golden eyes." Alphonse sweat-dropped at the next sentence he was about to utter, "he's also not very tall." _Sorry brother_ Al mentally apologized. Good thing Ed wasn't around to hear that statement. He'd definitely get an earful because of it.

Al waited in anticipation for the man's response. Maybe he had seen Ed! If he's asking about him was any indication.

"A short boy wearing a red coat, you say?" The man leaned his chin against his broom, seeming lost in thought, "you know, I think I did see a boy who fits that description-"

"You saw my brother!?" Alphonse now focused his entire being on the man, anxious to hear more.

"I believe so. If I remember correctly, the lad only came to drink some water really early in the morning. He got into a scuffle with a lady that sat next to him."

"A woman?" Al gasped. Finally! They found someone who had information on his brother! The man nodded his head emphatically.

"Indeed. He and the woman seemed to be fighting. I told them they had better take their fight out of my tavern!" The man grip the broom tightly with indignation at the memory.

"Please! Can you tell me what happened after that? Can you tell me what the woman looked like?" Alphonse nearly reached out to grip the man's shoulders, he was so anxious. So, Ed got himself into trouble again. At least they now had an idea of who may have taken Ed.

"Hm… let me think..." the man placed a thoughtful finger against his chin, as if it took great power to think back to two days previous. "The woman seemed to be wearing a lot of red. She had a red coat on, and even her long brown hair had a bit of a red sheen to it."

Al would've raised an eyebrow if he was human _that's quite a lot of information for having to think hard about it. Still… I'm getting a description!_

"She also seemed to have several men with her too. They began fighting in my tavern, but I'm afraid once they left I don't know where they went."

"Thank you! Really, that was helpful enough!" Alphonse shook the man's hand, nearly knocking him off his feet, before running back towards Central Command. Alphonse had to let Mustang know of this new development!

* * *

"So, you've come up empty as well," Mustang sagged against the table, staring at his still full glass of sake. Though it had been less than twenty-four hours since he had gone and spoken with Madame Christmas, he was hoping to at least have a little more information by then.

"Now now, Roy, no need to get your knickers in a twist. We've barely even begun our investigation. Trust me when I say, we _will_ get information about your subordinates whereabouts. Things like this, however, take time. You must be patient."

"I know… I'm sorry." Mustang grumbled out, dissatisfied. Why couldn't things go his way? It would be substantially more helpful to him and his cause if they did. Alas, things always had to be harder than necessary when they were important. Too bad it was the weekend. Fullmetal really had fantastic timing. If Mustang wasn't so anxious, he'd curse his subordinate for making him work when he could be busy resting or going on a date/s. In any case, with little to no information coming from Madame Christmas right that minute, Mustang tipped his head her way, groaning softly as he stood. He slowly placed his civilian coat over his shoulder before heading towards the exit.

"Have a little faith, Mustang dear." Madame Christmas smiled at him from behind the counter. Mustang turned sideways to give her a small smile back.

"Yeah," he agreed, if only to let her know that he hadn't given up. Things were looking quite bleak. How had Fullmetal's captors hidden their whereabouts from the military so easily? How was it that no one noticed a pipsqueak being taken? Fullmetal was really hard to miss, what with how loud and destructive he could be.

"Don't lose hope, Fullmetal. We _will_ find you." He mumbled to the air as he walked out. Mustang had to believe that Fullmetal was alright. The kid had an enormous amount of stamina and always seemed to come out more irritated than anything else. In fact, Mustang wouldn't be surprised if, when they finally found Ed, that he'd be yelling at them for taking so long.

Walking along the streets of central, Mustang strode slowly. To any bystander, he'd look like a normal civilian, talking a stroll to some unnamed destination. However, Mustangs eyes were on high alert, watching for any sign of Fullmetal or the scuffle he found himself in. Maybe they'd have better luck in getting information if they didn't wear their uniform. It was a good experiment for Mustang while he headed back to his office.

The sound of loud clinking filled the air and soon, Mustang noticed Alphonse's armored body, running head on towards him. He stopped, patiently waiting for the younger Elric brother to hammer a stop in front of him. Mustang's lip twitched as he watched civilians quickly jump out of the way, a look of panic or horror on their face of almost being trampled.

The urgency in which Alphonse ran made Mustang's heart beat quicker. There had to be information if Alphonse was hurrying his way.

"Colonel!" Al yelled as he ran, continually yelling until he came to a stop. The lack of heavy breathing from a hard run excursion sometimes weirded Mustang out, though only when he noticed it. Such as right then. Where any normal person would be trying to catch their breath, breathing in large gulps, Alphonse simply stopped quickly, the only indication he'd been running hard was the sound the metal made on the ground from his feet.

"What is it, Alphonse?"

"Colonel! We finally have an idea of who may have taken Brother!" Mustang's eyes widened slightly, before he looked around at his surroundings to all the people walking by; their ears, even if by accident, attuned to the odd pair standing so still in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Follow me," Mustang ordered, stepping out onto the street and flagging down a taxi. They rode in silence back to Madame Christmas'. His heart pounded the entire way. If they finally found a lead, they could finally make some actual progress on Fullmetal's whereabouts.

Though they sat at the bar (well, Alphonse stood at the end) Mustang made a few calls to his team. Mustang made no move to speak to Alphonse, and Alphonse seemed to get the hint that they were to wait. Before long, Hawkeye, Breda, Falman, Havoc, and Fuery were all situated at the bar as well, All wondering what was going on.

"So, here we are. I was hoping you'd have found Fullmetal, what with how urgent you sounded on the phone." Havoc spoke up, lightly maneuvering the unlit cigarette in his mouth.

"Heh, not quite." was Mustang's reply, "we do, however, finally have a lead. Even if the information isn't Fullmetal's exactly location, we've got something."

"Still, talking about it at a bar? That seems a little sketchy, even for you, Colonel." Falman pointed out matter of factly. Madam Christmas, who was quietly polishing a wine glass nearby, decided to make her presence known.

"Don't worry, dear. I'm in on the investigation as well." Her smile was almost as pretentious as Mustang's. He smiled gratefully her way. To have Madame Christmas hear the information was the best thing Mustang could think of right on the spot, especially since he had talked with her before he spoke to Alphonse. If all of them were looking, then Fullmetal's location would be quickly found. That is what he was hoping for, anyway.

Mustang glanced over at Alphonse, who stood with what almost seemed to Mustang as agitation, "please go ahead, Alphonse. I'm sorry that you had to wait so long to tell me."

"No problem," Alphonse stated politely, ever the respectful Elric brother. "You see, I was just standing next to a tavern near Central Command when a man who worked there started sweeping next to me. Things happened and I found out he'd seen Brother!"

"A tavern near Central Command?" Havoc asked incredulously, "ah, shit. The guy said he had no idea whom I could be talking about!" His fist angrily hit the table, "bloody asshole!"

"Were you able to get a description of who took him?" Mustang asked, ignoring Havoc's outburst. Such was the life of a soldier in uniform. A fair amount of citizens lacked any respect to the work the military did for them. His response seemed so calm and collected on the outside, when his heart hammered on the inside,

"I was. Apparently Brother got into a fight with a woman. The bartender kicked them out before any damage could be done, but he said that the woman was with a few other people."

"Were you able to get a description of her appearance?" Hawkeye asked, eyes fiercely intent on the younger Elric brother. He nodded once,

"Yeah. The bartender said she wore all red. Said she had long brown hair and that it had a red sheen to it too."

"A woman wearing red, hm?" Madame Christmas spoke, contemplatively. Mustang glanced her way. Maybe she had an idea of who Alphonse was talking about?

"Have you seen someone who looks like that?" Mustang was almost afraid to place hope in his voice.

"Actually, we get a lot of women and men here, and a lot of them happen to have some red on their person. Was there anything else about her clothing that he mentioned?"

"Uh, well, he did say it was a short red dress. Actually, he said that all she was wearing was the color red."

"Only the color red, huh?" Madame Christmas mumbled again, appearing lost in thought. Mustang watched her for a moment before he turned back to his team.

"Anything else you can tell us, Alphonse?"

"I'm sorry, but that's all that I was able to get from the bartender."

"That's more than we had. Good job, Alphonse." For some reason, Mustang felt the need to praise the boy. "Alright, we now have an idea of what happened to Fullmetal. Now, fan out and try again. However, this time, I don't want you to go in your military clothes. Obviously any citizen we've spoken with so far has given us no information, but if Alphonse was able to glean something, maybe we should try a different angle and make this more… unofficial." Smiles were seen all around, everyone glancing at the other. Things were finally starting to happen!


	7. Chapter 6 Part 2

**Heyo! Sorry it took so long to get part 2 out, I had lots of stuff going on at home (like Japanese midterms and family crisis's) but I did it! :D I feel like it might be a little rushed so I'm sorry about that. Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Attackoneverything, gunsAndROSES2656, and IzXaRose. Getting Reviews makes it so much easier to want to continue writing. :D Anyway... please enjoy the next installment!**

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It hurt to walk. Every move Ed made was agony. As he hobbled along, blood seeped from his flesh leg like he had nicked himself a whole bunch with a shaver, because it had been rubbed raw during… _that_. Balancing himself against the wall became a great effort. He heavily relied on his automail arm and leg to push him forward, but when the time came, Ed knew he was going to have to suck it up and just _walk_. How else would he get away?

The house was more normal than Edward had anticipated. The room they had situated him in seemed to be on the second level of the house, with stairs just to the right of the room. He held onto the wall with his automail, the bread from his plate efficiently placed in his mouth to munch on while he escaped. He'd need his energy if he really wanted to get as far away as he could. Already, just from the effort of getting on the other side of the door, Ed could feel his energy draining. Moving around took more out of him than he had imagined. Not to mention, not having had water for more than twenty-four hours caused the water to sift right through him. He really needed a bathroom!

His heart pumped fast in his chest. The prospect of getting to leave far more exciting than it should have been, but then, this wasn't any normal situation. Ed hobbled slowly, listening for sounds below. Faint noises of people talking wafted up the stairs, and Ed prayed that they wouldn't hear him. His whole body shook, scared that he wouldn't get away. Scared what would happen to him if he was caught again. Attempting an escape was something that kidnappers were never privy to. Who knew what this kid would be willing to do? Ed glanced at his automail arm, resting heavily against the wall. If he were to lose any other limb, there would be no way he could gain them back.

As he moved closer to the stairs, he placed a hand against a door sitting diagonally across the stairs, nearly stumbling when it slowly squeaked open. Ed held his breath, waiting with desperate ears for any sounds to investigate the noise. When nothing happened, he let it out in relief, grateful that no one noticed then did a once over into the room, before double-taking at the sight of a toilet.

To go or not to go. That was the question. He bit his lip, glancing over his shoulder down the stairs, deciding whether it would be worth it to go or not. _Ah crap, I really gotta go!_ Huffing in exasperation at himself for such a human need, Ed slowly stepped into the dark bathroom, closing the door behind him, praying the squeaking wouldn't alert his captors. He dared not turn on the light, merely fumbling and feeling around until he stood in front of the toilet. A sense of anxiety arose in the pit of his belly. If he didn't get out of the house quick, they'd discover his absence and soon he'd be caught once again. Unless he could create a hiding spot…

Finishing his business, Ed slowly fumbled towards the door, feeling sweat drip down his temple, holding the automail hand against the round knob on the door. Gearing himself up for what he had to do next, Ed took a deep breath, opening the door a pinch to see if he'd been discovered missing. Thank his lucky stars they had no idea that he'd escaped! He pulled the door open, limping to the banister at the stairs.

"Hm.." Ed pouted, glaring down the wooden steps. Maybe taking the easy way out of the building wasn't his _best_ option. Ed looked left, then right, noticing that at the end of the small hallway was a window with a massive tree on the other side. His lip scrunched up as he looked down at his flesh leg and the blood slowly seeping down. He gasped, noticing, as his heart jumped wildly in fear, the trail of blood he was leaving behind. He haphazardly looked around his person, trying to decipher the best way to trick his captors. Thinking of the effort it would take just to fool them exhausted Ed.

Maybe… maybe if Ed tricked him. Told the wannabe what the Fullmetal Alchemist was _really_ like. Maybe then he'd be able to stall his captor from the torture weapons that were easily visible to Ed. He shook his head anxiously, automail clenching hard against the wooden railing, the force of it denting the soft lumber. He turned and glanced into the bathroom, gazing at the soft white towel folded messily on a wooden towel rack across from the toilet. Eyes glistening with determination, teeth clenched to absurdity, Ed geared himself up to walk the distance, hardly daring to pause to think about the pain each step caused. Every step was welcomed with a grimace, before finally, finally, Ed made it to the towel rack where he carefully dabbed at his leg, cleaning up the blood from his footprint before wrapping the towel around his leg in order to stop the dripping of his blood.

With great gumption gearing up to walk back out, Ed nearly had a heart attack when he heard Macabé's voice at the bottom of the stairs. He paused, holding his breath in the darkness of the bathroom, wishing the door gave some sort of privacy. To his great relief, Macabé never started up the stairs, and Ed could physically feel as his heartbeat slowed.

"Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium…" Ed recited, calming his nerves before he slowly walked out of the bathroom once more. When a quick glance showed no signs of life on the top floor, Ed hobbled out, listening intently as he walked in case he had to quickly hide from his captors. The window was so close! So close that Ed could practically envision his escape; but when he made it to the windowsill, one look out made him gulp. If he wanted to free himself, he'd have to jump.

Ed took a mental evaluation of his body, noting where all the aches and pains were. The very idea that he would have to jump exhausted his core. Still, being stuck in this delusional idiot's hideout or wherever he happened to be was nothing short of being far more exhausting. Gulping before taking one more look over his shoulder, Ed opened the sill slowly, wincing when the wood made the standard shooup noise.

"Okay Ed, you can do this. No need to think about a missing Alphonse who would naturally pick you up without a hitch with the state you're in." Ed kneeled his automail leg on the sill, uncharacteristically grateful that he was short enough that the hunching over out of the window wasn't as difficult as it should be. Unfortunately, once Ed jumped onto the available branch of the tree, he'd have no way of closing the window to hide the fact that he'd escaped. Hopefully, his captors wouldn't notice he was missing until he was a safe distance away from them.

To his surprise, the white of the "sky" happened to be another house. When Ed looked left and right, he saw what looked to be a neighborhood. At least, the main road seemed to be a short distance away. The land seemed to be barren apart from a lone tree midway to the road. Perhaps Ed could use his alchemy to push him forward towards the tree? No.. no… Ed immediately dismissed the idea, the chances of a trail too high to execute it.

Focusing once more on taking the first leap, Ed hunched himself in the ready position, taking a couple breaths before leaping into the air, nearly panicking when he almost missed the branch. He'd accidentally gone to grab the branch with his wounded hand and it took everything he had within the span of a second to switch motions, latching onto the branch desperately. His body swung violently, automail leg grazing the trunk of the tree, taking with it a small chunk. Waiting to steady himself, Ed could feel his arm shaking as he looked at the distance he needed to haul himself up, then looked at the window which he had just jumped from. Biting his lip, Ed counted to three before slowly pulling himself up, using his automail leg to help the rest of the way.

The fact that it took so much more effort than it normally should have irritated Ed. This was a simple exercise that, under normal circumstances, Ed could pull off with a breeze, yet here he was, panting from the sheer effort of using one arm to pull his weight. Which, because of the automail, made him heavier than a normal guy his size.

Staring at the open window, Ed slowly brought his wounded leg close to his body, unwrapping the loose towel with his automail hand, wincing as it brought with it tiny pieces of skin and splotches of blood. It needed to be properly wrapped if Ed wanted it to heal properly. Dammit, he did _not_ want to go to a hospital, but it was looking like he couldn't avoid that possibility if he had to walk much further. One look at his dislocated finger made the decision more readily desired.

Looking behind him at the trunk of the tree, Ed calculated the way he would make his way down with as little effort as possible. Using alchemy would be _so_ handy right that moment, and Ed would totally transform steps into the trunk of the tree if he wasn't terrified that the light and noise would alert his captors. Perhaps if he stayed in the tree he wouldn't be found? One look into the open window and Ed dismissed the idea. Yeah, there was no way they wouldn't see him if he stayed there. Besides that… he had a brother to get to! A brother whom Ed was more convinced he needed to apologize to as time passed on. What was it they were fighting about again? Oh yeah… sleeping pills. What Ed wouldn't give right that moment just to have something to knock him out from his nightmare.

He consolidated himself with the notion that he could reward himself with such pills once he was back to safety, but now was not the moment to be slacking off. He wasn't victorious just yet. There was still plenty of room for failure and capture. Glancing at the sky, Ed could see he'd spent far more time in the tree than he had intended. He must've been more exhausted than he'd initially thought.

Taking a couple breaths, mentally preparing himself for the pain that was to follow the moment he moved, Ed slowly scooted until his back hit the trunk, unable to help the whimpers that escaped his lips. When he was healthy again he was going to give them hell for everything they'd done to him! As he made his was down the trunk, Ed thought of all the things he'd do to pulverize his captors for all the harm and disgusting things they'd done. It just… it wasn't right. He could hear Karly's sensual voice, hear the raspiness of Macabe's, and wanted to throw up all over again for how it made his stomach twist. Ed most definitely did _not_ want anyone to know what he'd been through. If he was lucky, he'd get by with sharing only the minute details of what had transpired the last few days. Perhaps the doctor's wouldn't do a thorough examination of his body? Perhaps he wouldn't have to go to a doctor at all. Ed could dress his wounds on his own. After all, he had seen Winry and Granny Pinako do it plenty of times. _Especially_ after he'd lost both his arm and leg. It wasn't too hard.

No, no… he couldn't go see Al or Mustang and the rest of the gang until he'd finished cleaning himself up. Best to not give them more to worry about than what they were probably doing right then because of his absence.

After practically sliding down the trunk of the tree, tears prickling his eyes without his consent because of the fact, Ed finally made it to the bottom. The house next to him had no window leading out towards the tree, leaving Ed a little disappointed. If someone was in that house, they could help him. He looked down the large yard at the lone, pitiful tree that would help him gain his freedom. He just had to make it that far, then he could rest.

Freedom was right on the tips of Ed's fingers. He could feel it! Tragically, the small burst of hope which Ed felt growing in a small corner of his heart was extinguished when he suddenly heard a,

"WHERE THE SHIT IS HE?" The scream was loud and unmistakably the wannabe's voice, the sound so loud it made Ed flinch.

"Crap!" Ed breathed quietly. _Crappity crap crap crap_ Ed could feel panic welling within him, his heartbeat immediately quickening. He was in too much pain to walk fast yet now, if he didn't do so, he would be caught and that'd be the end of his hard-won freedom. Ed didn't think he had it in him to go through another bout of what they had in store for him.

His heart pulsated loudly in his ears as he hid behind the trunk of the tree opposite the house he'd just escaped. Now, all he had to do was run to that tree (the midway point) make sure he wasn't being followed, and then run the rest of the way to the road. From where he stood, Ed could see other houses right along the edge of the road. He'd just have to dash as quickly as possible and hope that there was some kind soul that would save him from the maniac's after him.

Before he could do anything else, Ed glanced around the tree only to see Macabé angrily slamming the door of the house open, stomping the dirt paved ground hard enough to create a small dust bomb.

Damn, Ed had taken too long to think. He quickly glanced around the other end of the tree, searching behind the house. However, the back end was too far away for Ed to get a good glimpse and decided to make an effort to hid that way, anyway. Without taking any more chances of counting to three, Ed hobbled his way to the back, unable to help from pressing the back of his flesh hand against his leg to try and counteract the pain. He bit his lip hard enough to draw a trickle of blood before he made it to the corner of the white wooden house. Macabé, swearing quite the amount of expletives, muttered angrily about Ed.

"I swear, kid, once I find you, you're gonna get it!" or "damn kid, thinks he can get away from me? _Me_ of all people? What a little shit." and the one that made Ed shutter the most, "Oh, how much I'm gonna fuck that kid until he's blue in the face!" all the while slashing at the floor with his boot, or waving his fists in the air. With his back to the house, Ed glanced around, searching for anything to hide behind. He found no tree's large enough to hide his form, however, with a pile of rocks situated next to him, Ed realized he could transmute the rocks to create a little hide-a-way. Sliding slowly into a crouch, favoring heavily his automail leg, Ed rested his flesh arm against his let, then clapped his hands together as lightly as he could, allowing the transmutation to take hold, before pressing his automail hand to the cluster of rocks next to him.

Ed was soon enveloped in darkness, shaking like a leaf, praying that no one would recognize the transmutation. He'd chosen the cluster of rocks so that he wouldn't have to take from the ground itself, an obvious sign that alchemy had transpired.

Soon enough, Ed heard noises on the other side of his hiding spot. He kept his breathing quiet, afraid to be caught. The crunch of the dirt, followed by more mutterings, soon dissipated, and Ed let out a sigh of relief he didn't realize he'd been carrying. Ed allowed himself a few minutes more in the darkness to make sure no one reappeared. Wherever the fake was searching was clearly in the wrong area as he'd not heard anything more on the other side of his hiding spot.

Taking a careful move to deconstruct the transmutation, Ed sagged, exhausted against the wall, closing his eyes for just a moment, needing the quick break to help give him extra stamina for what he had to do next. He wouldn't get so lucky the next time he tried to hide. Macabé was still out there, yelling for him. If Ed wasn't careful, other's would show up outside as well.

Slowly heading back towards the tree he'd jumped onto (hoping to make a pathetic run for it to the tree that seemed like it could be a hundred miles away, even if it was only a half mile away) Ed leapt to the ground behind the tree in-between the two houses, cursing when he landed on his flesh hand, feeling the pains of rocks embedding into his flesh and the bending of his finger in what would usually have been a normal position. Ed could feel, with great irritation, beads of sweat falling down his face, and the urge to cry too prominent. Somehow, Fake Edward appeared from the house that Ed had hoped would help him, with blood on his hands.

"Dammit, that doesn't bode well," Ed growled quietly to himself, "c'mon Ed, you're the Fullmetal Alchemist! You can escape! You've gotten ahead of the crazies before!" Berating himself was a small comfort, hoping to keep his head clear of the process right in front of him.

"Did you find the kid yet?" Ed heard the wannabe growl at Macabe.

"No sir, he's a sneaky alchemist. But don't you worry! He won't be able to hide for long!"

"Yeah he better not. I've got… plans for our little alchemist." A tick appeared in Ed's forward at the "little" comment. He'd have yelled fiercely if he wasn't so injured and disgusted. Ed didn't have _any_ desire to find out just what the imposter had in store for him. How was he going to stay hidden until he could get away?

"Find him soon! Otherwise you won't get him to yourself again!"

"Yes sir!"

Anxiety twisted in the pit of Ed's stomach. He couldn't allow them to touch him again. He still had disgusting images burned in his retina's for the rest of his life. He wasn't sure how he would be able to handle it if more images were forced upon him again.

Ed held his flesh wrist tightly with his automail hand, holding his breath, waiting for the two to go their separate ways. If they were to find him now… no, he couldn't allow himself to think that way. What would Alphonse think? No, he was going to make it, and he would get back to his brother and team. No matter what.

Thinking it and putting it into action, however, were two very different concepts. Reality was, Ed could hardly walk. His pacing was that of a turtle. Not to mention, blood was seeping out of his leg once again, allowing a painful throb to be constantly present; and by now, Ed had used up almost all of his remaining energy. His limbs felt weak, and all he wanted to do was nap.

Slowly, Ed pulled himself up into a sitting position, massaging his leg above the raw skin, mostly using the wrist of his flesh arm as automail wasn't very soft and comforting to the skin. Bracing himself, Ed did his best to glance around the tree, noticing no one around. Thanking his lucky stars, Ed hauled himself onto his feet, bracing heavily against the tree for help. Glancing left and right once more to make sure no one was still outside, Ed made a "run" for it to the lone tree so far away. He could do nothing about his clothes, too afraid the sound and light would get his captors attention. Ed placed his full balance on the swollen leg, nearly crying out because the pain was so great. He had to suffer through it. Just this once. Then he could pass out for as long as he wanted once he was in the safety zone.

To his horror, Ed wasn't the only one who had the idea to run towards the lone tree. With the houses spread so far away from the two he just left, the tree was the only source to hide behind.

There, leaning against the other side of the tree in all his fullmetal esque glory with arms folded, was the fake, waiting almost patiently for Ed to stop by. As if he had been expecting him to show up. Ed literally felt the blood drain from his face, even though he had become flush from the heat of the sun in such hot clothes. Fake Edward's expression betrayed his relaxed look. His hands, no longer slathered with blood, gripped the sleeves of his shirt tightly, his lips pursed in a thin line. Whatever hope Ed had retained of freedom were dashed the second he was spotted.

Fake Edward casually stood straight, starring Ed down. Even with the little height difference, Ed felt extremely small, nearly hunching in on himself at the look the wannabe was giving him. The kid sighed, before walking over to Ed, placing a hand on his flesh shoulder, the action causing Ed to flinch. Fake Edward stared at Ed, fingers digging painfully into his shoulder.

"I don't know why you tried to escape. It would have been better if you hadn't. At least… better for you..." A sinister grin grazed the fake's lips, eyes looking at him in an almost animalistic manner. "Sorry, but you're not allowed to leave yet. Not until I'm done with my research."

"I'm not interested in your kind of research." Ed grit out, angry at himself for getting caught, and furious that this kid thought he had the right to stop Ed from going where he wanted to go.

"At this point, you don't get any say." Up until this moment, the fake had had an attitude that had seemed airy. Almost as if the kid was oblivious to what he was actually doing. Now, as Ed looked into his eyes, that ditzy, airheaded look was gone, replaced by something more sinister and lustful. Now... now Ed began to feel real panic. He was helpless. _Ugh! I'm such an idiot! I should have just transmuted myself away!_ Ed glared at his fake counterpart, chastising himself for not really running away when he had the chance. For being too afraid. When did Edward Elric, the _Fullmetal Alchemist_ ever run away? Guess there was a first time for everything, even if this was one of the most terrible times for it to arise.

Fake Edward, still viciously gripping Ed's shoulder, used his other hand to take hold of Ed's flesh hand. Before Ed could understand or react (his mind dulled from exhaustion) the fake had grabbed hold of his flesh hand and bent his dislocated finger further out of place. Instantly, Ed lost his balance, falling to his knees from the pain, not caring about the scratches his shoulder received from the vice-like grip of the fakes other hand.

"You _will_ come back with me, and you _will_ cooperate with what I want. You get no choice in the matter." Fake Edward sighed, making a face at the blue sky. "And here I was trying to be nice by keeping you in a nice room. Now you have to go to our dark cellar." He laughed something hollow, "of course, it's not like you weren't going to end up there anyway, but I thought we could prolong the inevitable. Oh well. Better for me, I suppose."

"Bastard," Ed growled out, head bowed so that the only thing he saw was the yellowed grass beneath him, hand still painfully gripped in the wannabe's.

"According to the military records, that isn't the case. Being Edward Elric has its perks, ya know?" Ed seethed at the smile he could hear in the fake's response. What a dispicable human being! How could people like him even exist? How was it, that they were not homunculi and yet, these atrocious people felt joy in the pain they caused others?

"Now come, my little alchemist. Time to go." Anger bubbled underneath Ed's surface, giving him just enough energy to pull himself free from the grasp of the fake.

"I'm not some lapdog that will come at your beck and call!" He replied angrily, giving no room for the fake to retaliate. Ed, without a second thought, slammed his hands together before slamming them to the ground; creating not only a wall separating the two, but a massive hand which shot out and struck the fake in the gut, throwing him several feet away from the massive, twenty foot wall. Ed gave him no chance to make a move before he twisted on his heel and made a run for it.

"Hey!" Ed cried out, "Please! Anyone! Help me! I've been kidnapped!" Ed was still too far away from the houses for his cries to reach beyond the walls. Not to mention, that little burst of energy was quickly evaporating, and though Ed walked, he felt the repercussions such movements caused. Pain rippled not only his hand, but pulsated all the way up his arm, and his leg… Ed could barely put pressure on it without feeling the need to cry out. But no… he had to be strong. He had to pull through this!

A ghoulish laugh was heard behind Ed, before he realized that he had not kept the fake off the ground for as long as he'd hoped. Either that or he moved _really_ slowly. Probably the latter. Dammit.

"You think those people are going to save you?" The words floated on the wind, "you've got a lot to learn, my fellow alchemist." The sound of alchemy could be heard, and the next thing Ed knew, he was thrust harshly onto his stomach by a concrete force, which neither relented it's pressure, nor allowed him to stand up. Footsteps were heard, and Ed's golden orbs widened in panic. He was so exhausted. Why wouldn't this nightmare just end?

Feet invaded Ed's view and he could see out of the corner of his eye the fake, holding an arm over his torso. _Good!_ Ed thought vengefully _let_ him _know what it feels like to be in pain!_

"Nobody will come to save you, Eddy," More footsteps were heard coming up behind a crouching Fake Edward, who's red coat luxuriously covered the ground around Ed. "No one would _dare_ come near my home. They know what will happen if they do." Ed's breath came out in spurts as he stared into the dulled golden eyes of his captor from the corner of his own. Soft hands caressed Ed's arm, before pulling up the long sleeve to reveal flesh. Before Ed knew it, something had poked into his arm, surrendering him with the inability to move.

"You see… I _own_ them. Each and every person in this cul de sac. No one would _dare_ lift a finger to help you knowing just what is in store for them."

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 **Please forgive me for any mistakes. There's probably many. I'm not sure how I liked how his escape went, but I was pleasantly surprised by the outcome of his recapture (as it was not what I had first envisioned) anyway... love you all and thank you for reading! Please Read and especially Review. It gives me lots of warm fuzzies inside when I read them. xD Anyway... until next time!**

 **Ja'ne!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Hey All! I'm back with another chapter. YAY**

 **Thank you to Attackoneverything, IzXaRose, and curligurl0896 for your reviews. I sincerely love them :D :D**

 **I feel that i must put a WARNING: Graphic Text! for this chapter. Unlike the other chapters, this one is where the torture really begins... so I warn you. It's pretty gruesome. There's also some animal abuse, so be warned.**

 **Anyway... on to the chapter!**

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Chapter 7

Ed found himself situated on a metal slab of a chair, arms chained to the arm rests and feet chained to the floor itself. After being injected with some type of muscle relaxant (the bastard), Ed met the frightening experience of having no control over his body whatsoever. He couldn't even keep his eyes opened, the injection worked so well. It did not impair his ability to hear or feel pain, however, and every little bump and cranny that the wannabe walked irritated every part of Ed's bruised and scratched body. He would have whimpered if he were able.

Almost immediately afterwards, Ed felt his ability to take in breaths completely shodden. This resulted in a panic attack. His captors, not noticing what was happening to their unmoving captive, took no notice when Ed passed out. In fact, Ed felt lucky that he even woke up at all. However, what he woke up to wasn't from a nightmare, but the reality that he had only passed out for a few minutes. Enough so to notice they were headed down some squeaky wooden stairs. A door at the bottom opened surprisingly smooth and quiet, the metal hinges apparently oiled either regularly or recently.

As soon as the door was open, they were assaulted with a rank smell, one that reminded Ed of Gluttony's disgusting mouth. The smell made his eyes water and Ed could do nothing to stop the smell from invading his senses. That wasn't the worst of it, though.

The worst of it, was that Ed could tell… whichever "cellar", as the fake had called it, that they took him to, they were not alone. Ed swore he heard some moans and it made his stomach twist to think he wasn't the only one being tortured. He was also pretty sure that he heard some animal cries too.

Now, after being thrown and chained roughly onto a metal chair, his head drooped, Ed was given the gift of being able to think. Or rather, the _curse_ , of being able to think. The Fake and his lackey's leaving him behind to, "grab a few things". By now, the pinpricklings of once numb limbs coming back to life allowed Ed, with great effort, to look around his cell.

 _What would Al think of me now? Or even Mustang?_

"Heh," Ed gave a short, quipped, laugh (about as much effort as he was able to give at that moment). When the hell had he begun to care what Colonel Bastard thought of him, anyway? _I can't let them see me like this. I have to escape before they rescue me. Because they_ are _going to rescue me. It's going to happen. It will. The Colonel Bastard needs me so that he can climb the ranks. And Alphonse… he… he… would he even want to see me again?_ oh who was Ed kidding? Al probably thought that it was best he left. After the way they had left things... Al could figure out himself how to get his body back and enjoy life without his useless, violated and disgusting brother. _Wait… no… that's not right. Alphonse needs me because we need each other to get our bodies back. We have to help each other… right? I made… I made a promise… Dammit… why's it so hard to_ think?

Ed's mind felt far too fuzzy. It must have been the effects of the drug they gave him. Instead of thinking, Ed did what he could to lazily roll his head to look around, his breathing short. The cell was dark. In fact, the only light Ed received was coming from a small, barred window inserted in the door directly in front of him. The walls themselves were a dark color. Ed could barely make them out in the darkness, though the impression he got was brown. Would he be surprised that they were brown? No, definitely not.

Being alone in the darkness took away his need to really see anything. Instead, Ed listened. He'd heard noises when he came in, and now, as he listened more intently, those noises were heard again. Perhaps more distinctly as he was able to focus on just that (in a manner of speaking. His awareness of his aching body never left his conscious. Who could forget the pinpricks that heightened the pain in his raw leg and the pulsing ache of his flesh hand? One of which he couldn't even move, considering his last stunt to try and get away. His hand felt a little bit too swollen.)

Suddenly, the sounds of footsteps were heard, along with the slam of a door. Ed trembled, praying they wouldn't come his way, and for a moment he was almost correct, and he let out a shaky breath of relief. That only lasted for a second before he heard the hissing of what he was sure was a cat. The hissing continued for a few seconds before he heard a " _shut up you mangy thing!"_ and a loud _thwack!_ Sounds of hissing immediately ceased and Ed wanted to hurl.

Footsteps then began to grow stronger and Ed, (who could only hold his head up for a few seconds) trembled, unable to control his fear of them entering his cell. His heart thumped wildly in his chest, all the while, pinching his eyes closed, softly reciting the periodic table to try and help calm himself down. He didn't have anything to worry about, right? _Heh, right_ his mind drawled.

Then, the door opened. Not even slammed like one would expect. Just… opened. Normally. As if the captors weren't about to enter a room that stashed a captive. Light flooded into the room, and Ed flinched as it penetrated passed his eyelids, even though he couldn't have been in the darkness for that long. Then, before Ed could think about anything more, a calloused hand grabbed his chin, forcing his still weakened neck to crank in a different direction. Ed winced at the pain a creak in his neck left, wishing he could lay his head back down.

"Hmph, doesn't look so great to me." The gruff voice stated haughtily. His voice matched his appearance. Ed cracked his eyes open only to see a face invading his vision. The man had dark brown hair, large eyes, and a scruffy chin that surrounded a frowning mouth. A familiar laugh was heard off to Ed's left. He glanced in that direction before the hand let go, barely registering that there was an animal lying on top of what looked like a cart that doctor's used to hold their equipment during a surgery. Ed slowly brought his head up, staring in that direction, seeing the man (who had just a moment before had been right in front of him) walk over and pick up what looked to be a long pair of scissors, wiping them down. Fake Edward was in a similar process, shining a pair of a ridiculously long pair of tweezers. Behind him, Ed could see that the walls were, indeed, a mud brown.

"I don't know if you noticed, Eddy," the fake spoke up, "but there's a lovely fireplace in this room. Oh, I guess you wouldn't have noticed, anyway. You're not facing that direction." He smirked, "Silly me." He picked up a long, metal pole, glancing up at its tip.

"This, here, is a special pole. You see," he looked directly into Ed's eyes, his own glistening with what had to be excitement, "it's not used only to bruise the body; but on the edge here, do you see?" He came closer to Ed, lowering the end to show Ed its top, "it's stamped with an insignia which I created. How exciting is that!" He brought the tip up to his face to admire the workmanship there. "Can you imagine? The Fullmetal Alchemist with his own insignia! People will go ballistic just to have one!"

"An insignia?" Ed whispered incredulously. He was going to tarnish the Fullmetal name if he got that thing out in the open! Ed wouldn't put it past the people to believe he was the Fullmetal Alchemist, either. The kid was sho- ahem, as tall as he was and had the ensemble to complete the look. After all, there was no picture of him out there to prove otherwise. He couldn't help but hope that it would fail, though. That people would recognize that this imposter wasn't the real Fullmetal Alchemist and then wonder what happened to the real one.

Fake Edward smiled at him, pity surrounding his gaze.

"You poor alchemist. Can you believe what they've made of you? A hero of the people! All because you've joined the military. People celebrated that! This is why I'm trying to help you. This is why I have become the Fullmetal Alchemist." Fake Edward walked slowly towards Ed. Ed flinched when the fake came near, his coat brushing against his shoulder. Then, much to Ed's surprise, the fake continued onward towards, he assumed, the supposed fireplace. Ed soon hear the cracklings of a fire, the heat of it warming Ed's back.

"If you've become me," Ed croaked out, "why don't you let me go? What's the use in keeping me here?'

"Ah, what a fascinating question. Why would I _want_ to let you go, yet? There's still so much I have to see! I may be the Fullmetal Alchemist, but there are still things I can learn from my counterpart."

"Like what?" Ed asked, worried that being curious would bring about more pain. Actually, he was certain that's what it would bring, but damn his curiosity getting the better of him!

Fake Edward never answered him. Simply walked back over to the cart with the unconscious animal laying on top and his lackey still shining their supplies.

"Do you like my friend? He's really good with all these tools I've brought. He was once a doctor, but, like Barry the Chopper, found he couldn't help but meticulously cut people up. He only got away because he disguised it as failures from surgery. Of course, he was tragically fired from that position due to the many deaths resulting from his surgeries. That's why I took him in. He seems pretty useful, wouldn't ya say?"

"Useful in what way? Being used as your pet?" Ed retorted, angry and afraid of just what they had in store for him.

"Mm, yes. You've got quite a mouth on you. I'd stitch up your mouth, but I need you to be able to eat still. Maybe if I can grab an IV and feed you that way… but that's all in the future." He waved off the idea, placing a hand on the animal, stroking its black fur. Ed partially wondered how long he'd be stuck here. How long this crazy bastard wanted to keep him locked up. How long he would actually last… "In any case!" The fake continued, "there's much I want to learn about you! Much I have to see. I hear you enjoy the company of animals,"

"That's none of your damn business!" Ed growled out tiredly. He did not like the direction this conversation was going, nor was he willing to divulge the fact that nowadays, it was Alphonse who loved animals and wanted to keep one. He couldn't deny that he had a soft spot for the cute little creatures, though. Ed was thrown out of his thoughts as he watched in horror when the fake brought a glowing red end of the rod towards the animal, rolled the animal over onto its back, then stamped the insignia onto its belly.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ed yelled, panicked. The cat awoke instantly, screeching in pain as the piping hot rod kept it in place. "STOP!" Ed yelled, tears welling up in his eyes, "LET IT GO YOU DAMN BASTARD!" Enraged, Ed tried to free himself with little success. The moment lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to sear the sight in his mind. Fake Edward's gaze glistened as he watched Ed's reaction, his face one of curiosity and amusement. The feline panted, wearily trying to stand up.

"Well now, that was fascinating! I didn't expect such a quick reaction from you. I wonder how you would feel about this?" The fake grabbed the pair of long scissors, placed a palm over the felines back and pressed it back onto its belly. It hissed and squirmed, trying to break free. The wannabe showed no signs of compassion as he held firm, bringing the scissors to the tip of one of its ears. "Careful now, kitty. If you squirm too much, I may accidentally snip off more than just a tiny piece."

"No! Stop, stop, stop!" Ed pleaded, not giving a rat's ass that tears were streaming down his cheeks. Fake Edward didn't listen, and his lackey, now assisting in holding the cat down, just looked on with interest and his own amount of amusement. Then… the moment happened when the fake snipped. The amount of ear it took off just a little more than the tip, and blood streamed instantly from the wound. The cat screeched, bringing its claws to scratch at the fakes arm, then bolted, running into a corner to hide and shake, its whimpers a constant sound.

Ed felt bile rise, and he could do nothing but throw up on himself. Both the fake and his lackey laughed lightly, staring at the feline which cowered and trembled in its corner.

"Wasn't that exciting?" Fake Edward glanced over at Ed's now defiled clothes. "I don't think I like smelling that barf all over you, though. I think it's time we removed that burden. Don't you?" He snapped his fingers and immediately, the lackey moved, bringing the same scissors used on the cat, blood spots covering its ends.

Ed could only watch, dumbfounded, as the lackey striped him of his dignity, unable to forget the poor creature cowering nearby. At this point, he didn't even care that he was naked in front of his captors. All he could do right then was dream of breaking free and saving that poor creature from the likes of these sick, twisted people; and any others he found trapped here.

Fake Edward finished sterilizing the scratches he received, walking up to Ed. He bent forward so that their eyes met. One determined, the other horrified.

"Did I mention how interesting it would be to see how long it would take to break you?" He glanced back at the feline, "I didn't think it would be this easy, though. C'mon, Eddy. You're not that weak in the stomach, are you? Some simple fun isn't _really_ going to break you, is it? If so, I guess I pegged you wrong." He stood straight, sighing as he watched Edward. Ed avoided his gaze, still shocked that he was in such a situation, feeling more determined to save those around him than himself. But first, he had to find a way out. Was it even possible anymore?

Before those thoughts came to be, the first thought that Ed could conceive were _I'm_ so _glad Alphonse isn't here to see this. He would definitely not be able to handle this!_ Ed didn't even care that he had tears down his face. That animal did not deserve this kind of torture. What was worse, it looked to be a house cat. There was even a collar around its neck. It must have had a home with people who cared for it and now… now it would probably never trust again. Ed grit his teeth, enraged.

"Bastard," He seethed, breathing more heavily as he thought about everything transpiring right before his eyes and not a thing he could do about it.

"You know, you really love that word. It's starting to grate on my ears."

"Oh yeah?" Ed grit out, "and what're you gonna do about it?"

"Don't talk back to me, shorty, or you _will_ regret it."

"Don't call me short, asshole! And anyway, what more will you do to me that you haven't done, yet?" Ed challenged.

"Oh… I haven't even started." Fake Edward gestured towards his lackey, who stepped closer to Ed before backhanding him across the face. Ed sputtered, coughing, trying to gain his bearings. Being chained to the chair didn't help much as the chair, itself, wasn't chained to the ground. Ed fell hard to the ground, knocking his shoulder against the surface, buffering the force his head then hit. His feet, still chained to the floor, were the only things keeping him in nearly the same spot he started in. Ed saw stars, almost passing out before he was lifted back into a sitting position.

"Ah, ah, ah. I don't want you passing out just yet, Eddy. Can't have that." He took a jug that was sitting on the cart, taking the top off, swiftly walked over to Ed, then dumped an ice-cold jug of water over his head. Ed gasped and sputtered as an instant headache appeared. The cold water flowed over his naked body and Ed immediately gained goosebumps, teeth chattering. The freezing water stung the wound on his head, and Ed fought not to grow nauseous once again.

"You more awake now?" Fake Edward asked, trying to look at Ed's bowed face. "Look Ed, the thing is, you still haven't told me the secret to your alchemy ability. How can I get the same skill as that? It's quite impressive, really. I mean, I do well anyway, just because I've got some transmutations stitched onto my clothing; but, I'd much rather know how you do it. I don't see any tattoo's on your body at all. Your automail looks like it'd be quite painful, too." Fake Edward poked around at the nubs of Ed's automail. He hunched away from the unwanted prodding, praying that it was all that was. It wasn't.

His imposter slid back to his cart, pulling it along with him to bring next to Ed. He picked up a pair of pliers, testing out their durability.

"Now, let's see how well these work against your automail, hm?" Fake Edward smiled, almost as if he were actually asking the question and expecting a response.

 _Oh crap! He's really gonna test it out on my automail!_ Ed stared in disbelief, heart pounding, shaking his head slightly and shying away from the pliers as his imposter brought them onto the piece which hooked onto his actual flesh shoulder.

"I hear that they actually hook these things up to your nerves, which is how you are able to move them freely. Shall we test that out? Or rather, I see that it almost looks like it's stapled onto you. I wonder how easily it'd come off. What if I just _tug_ ," At this, Fake Edward pulled on the automail, tugging with the pliers one really hard tug. Flesh ripped, but because the automail was not only attached to his nerve endings, but also onto bone, the automail hardly budged.

Ed blacked out for a second, pain rippling through his mind and upper body, his shoulder throbbing and suddenly so weak, exuding a numbing, white pain. His whole body shook, his breathing labored. Fake Edward looked on, fascinated. He then reached out to poke the wound which he created,

Ed, now panting and sweating from the exertion, couldn't think, couldn't hardly breath. He cried out the moment he felt a finger prod its way INTO the wound, and found the pain to be too much. He could almost feel himself passing out, but then felt a small, consistent, slap against his cheek. Fake Edward gave out a breathy laugh.

"C'mon, Eddy. The fun's only just started! You can't pass out on me now." Ed would have glared, but found he couldn't get his eyes to open. If this is what he was going to have to endure, he prayed that Mustang and Alphonse would find him quickly.

"Are you still thinking that?" Fake Edward's voice chimed in. Shit, had he said that aloud? He has _got_ to stop doing that. "I think you've got a run for your money then. No one's coming for you."

Ed coughed, breathing heavily. His skin felt a little clammy. "Shut up," came his breathy reply.

"No, it's true! Would I lie to you?" His lackey laughed in the background at the ridiculous question. "You know me, Eddy. I'm the Fullmetal Alchemist!" Fake Edward came close to Ed's bowed head, using a hand to lift his face, grabbing fist full of hair and pulling roughly against Ed's scalp. With a now scabbing wound still there, the fake's fingers dug into his scalp, opening the still trying to heal wound. Ed panted, peeping his eyes open to watch the fake, anger blazing in his glazed eyes.

"You wanna know why you should give up? They're not coming. They've not even sent out a police force." Fake Edward gazed behind Ed, towards the fireplace, "I mean… I already let them know that the Fullmetal Alchemist was fine and was going to be on a leave of absence. After all, I'm not even sure one month is going to satisfy my need! Especially now that i see just how _fun_ it is to hear you cry." Gleefully smiling, Fake Edward once again stared into the eyes of the one he stole an identity from. "Not only that, but my name is going out among the masses of the people. The hero of the people, the Fullmetal Alchemist, doing mundane jobs to help the citizens of Amestris!" He barked a laugh here, "it's amazing how simple minded the masses are. Wouldn't you agree?"

Roughly letting go of Ed who then allowed his head to fall to his chest, the fake walked back towards his cart of equipment, ignoring the hissing of the far away cat, picking up a few here and there to examine them.

"So if you think you're going to be rescued, you can think again. They don't even know you're missing."

"You're wrong." Ed stated, the words shaky on his lips, "you're lying."

"Do you really think I would lie to you, Eddy?"

"Quit calling me Eddy!" Ed tried to straighten his posture as best he could, lifting his weary head to look at his imposter, "the names Edward Elric, and I-" cough, cough, "I am the Fullmetal Alchemist!"

Fake Edward tsked, seeming amused. The look grated on Ed's nerves and he wished he could clock the kid a new one. If circumstances weren't looking so grim, he would have done so.

One thing Ed couldn't get over (not that he could get over ANY of what was happening) was the lackey, who stared at him with a malicious desire radiating from his entire being. Ed licked his lips, trying to wet them. His whole mouth was dry, and had been for a while now. He really could use a glass of water. Having ice-cold water dumped on your head wasn't sufficient to quench your thirst. Not even close.

"You look thirsty," The Fake commented. He watched Ed with a contemplative look, absently shining a sharp equipment piece of his choosing. A few seconds later, he set that down, opting to grab a smaller jug on the bottom of the cart. It sloshed about, creating background noise that clashed with the crackling of the hot fire behind Ed.

Fake Edward nodded towards his lackey who then, with a rather creepy grin, walked up to Ed, his boots making small noise on the cement ground. Ed watched him wearily, shy away as the man's calloused hands reached for his head. No matter how much Ed tried to move, the man still captured his head, forcing him to look up at the dark ceiling, blinded by the florescent light above them. The lackey then plugged his nose, and grabbed his chin to force it open. Ed struggled, trying to get out of the hold, but to no avail. The man was just too strong. He hardly heard the fake come towards him, but nearly panicked when water was suddenly filling up his mouth. Ed sputtered, gulping in water while at the same time trying to gasp for air. With his nose plugged, it did little to alleviate that need and he thrashed about, trying to scream while choking on water that must have been filling up his lung. How ridiculous would it be, if Ed ended up drowning to death without actually having fallen into a river?

Then, after what seemed like hours, it was over. Both the lackey and Ed stepped back, watching Ed silently sputter and gasp, his lung aching from the need, and hurting all the more from his bruised chest.

"Better?" Came the condescending question. Ed didn't answer. Just continued to gasp for air.

"You know, I'm not normally the kind of man who goes about punching people. I prefer more… concrete methods." Ed looked up, only to see the fake holding the rod he'd used on the poor, still cowering feline. Once again, he walked towards the fireplace, then brought back a glowing red end. "Now… where should I place this? Think of this as a… parting gift of sorts. Of course, you won't get to leave, but I just think your body is such a great work of art already. I want to add to it!" His eyes looked all over Ed, holding the rod in ready position. Then, without any further notice, jammed the piping hot rod into Ed's flesh shoulder, holding it there.

Ed tried not to scream. He really did. It was just that, already not having a lot of breath to begin with, he couldn't keep the noise out. He clenched his teeth, unable to keep the strangled cry from leaving him. It was over for but a moment, as Fake Edward moved the rod from one shoulder to the next.

"Why don't I cauterize this wound, shall I? It wouldn't be good if you got an infection, would it?" He rolled the rod over the gaping wound he'd created earlier. Ed jerked, wishing he would pass out already. His luck wasn't high, however, and all he could do was gasp once it was over. Of course, that was a delusion in and of itself. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

Fake Edward smirked over his handy work, admiring what little he'd done. "You want a shot at him, don't you, Blair?"

"You know me well, Fullmetal Alchemist." The lackey, now known as Blair, smiled, cracking his fingers.

"Just don't do damage that will kill him. I want him kept alive or the time being."

"Of course. It will be fun to experiment on a live patient." It was disgusting how much excitement these people got out of torturing Ed. He almost preferred Karly and Macabe over this. Actually, no. He took that back. This was far better than what they had done to him. He could at least handle this pain. Fake Edward left for a moment, before re-entering the room with another metal chair. He situated himself next to the cart, hardly caring that the poor, whimpering cat scattered towards the fire, away from him.

Blair took a scalpel with a long edge, holding it close to his eyes to make sure it was really the one he desired. Satisfied, he came up to Ed, glancing all over. He looked at the now red and blistering insignia on Ed's shoulder, then glanced at the automail and the cauterized wound. He looked at Ed's belly, then at his thighs, determining just what he wanted to do.

"You know," Blair walked close, kneeling in front of Ed, holding the scalpel near his belly button. Ed watched, wide eyed. He felt so weak. "They say that this is the spot where people get a belly piercing." He held the scalpel near his mouth for a minute, then placed the razor sharp edge on Ed's right, hovering over his appendix area. Then, he pressed the blade into Ed's flesh and sliced from one end to the other, cutting across Ed's belly button.

"I could potentially even take out your appendix for you. Wouldn't that be fun? People don't die from that kind of surgery. At least… so I've been told." Blair laughed gleefully, somehow enjoying the sounds of Ed's labored cries, even if they were more quiet than before. Blood seeped from the long wound, trailing many trickles of blood.

"You wanna know a secret?" Blair asked, continuing with the scalpel, creating patterns on Ed's thighs, "my wonderful patients weren't even asleep when I operated on them!" The blue of his eyes grew crazy as he watched his hand meticulously draw on Ed. "I gave them a dose of Curare and wala! They were awake the entire time!" He laughed, not only at his own, twisted story, but at how helplessly Ed tried to get away. "They were awake, but were unable to move at all! Oh, it was glorious!" He nicked Ed deeper, seemingly on accident due to his excitement; but damn, did it hurt.

"You're sick," Ed panted, head bowed, glazed eyes looking at his bleeding body. He felt so tired, his body was sweaty and gross, yet he couldn't help but shiver. He was probably getting a fever. Not surprising, really.

"Only as sick as you want me to be," the man replied, he was kneeling on Ed's right, watching blood ooze from the deeper cut, above Ed's knee. He placed the sharp scalpel on Ed's lip, brushing the blunt end across one side to the other. Ed kept his mouth clamped shut, not wanting to let him in in case tried to cut inside his mouth. That would be rather unpleasant. The smell of his own blood made Ed's stomach turn.

"You know, I've always wanted to be a tattoo artist. They do piercings as well, but that would be far too obvious a kill. Don't wanna get caught by the military, ya know what I mean?" Blair laughed, then stood and placed the bloody scalpel back onto the cart. Fake Edward simply watched, arms crossed. He'd taken off the red trench coat long ago as the room was becoming quite hot.

Blair grabbed a long, thin metal rod, using prongs to hold it in his hand. He walked over to the fire, placed it in until it glowed red, then walked back to kneel in front of Ed. He held it at eye level to Ed.

"Now, a tattoo artist doesn't actually need to have the rod ridiculously hot like this, but I figured it'd be a lot easier to slice into you than if I hadn't." Ed's eyes widened. He began shaking his head, pleading for the man not to use the rod. "No? You don't want it?"

"Please, no," Ed whispered. What had become of him, to be reduced to pleading? Was this what they called breaking?

"You're right. I can't have you bending over while I'm in the process. I am a doctor after all. I like precision. If you would, Fullmetal Alchemist, use your alchemy to bind his head to the chair?"

Fake Edward raised an eyebrow, then complied with Blair's wishes, the action restricting Ed's movement.

"Sodium, Xenon, Magnesium, Aluminum, Silicon, Phosphorus, Sulfur, Chlorine, Argon, Potassium..." For some reason, Ed used the periodic table to calm his nerves. He found it to be strangely relaxing in the horrible situation he found himself in. Blair simply raised an eyebrow before bring the small rod near Ed's belly button, then, before Ed was ready, he penetrated the skin, sinking deep, cutting across underneath the belly button only to appear on the other side.

Ed couldn't help it this time. He screamed. Unable to move his body beyond shaking his legs and arms, Ed screamed, feeling, even as the rod sliced through his body, the blisters that instantly arose, inside and out. The pain that came as he pull the rod out was almost worse. It still glowed the brilliant white-red, but it was as if a thousand needles prodded into his blisters. Pulling off the scabs, then pulling beyond even that.

If Ed's head hadn't been plastered to a makeshift head rest, he would not have been able to hold himself up. His body trembled, he gasped and panted, tears streaming down his red, clammy cheeks. The very act of breathing creating pain as it moved his stomach. _Please just make it stop_ he pleaded to no one in particular. _Please no more._ Not that he would ever give them the satisfaction of saying _that_ out loud. He was sure it would do him no good, even if he did. Blearily, Ed opened his eyes, watching as Blair walked over to the equipment cart.

He placed the bloody and dripping rod onto the cart, then turning to look back at Ed, though Ed was unable to decipher what, exactly, was in the look he gave.

"I think..." Blair started, gravelly, "playing with my patients is more fun when they are able to move. Wouldn't you agree, Fullmetal Alchemist?" Fake Edward stood, clapping his hands and taking away Ed's support.

"Yes, I agree wholeheartedly. It's much more fun."

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 **Sorry if this was a bit OOC xD but c'mon, you'd scream too if that were to actually happen to you. xD Please R &R because it makes me happy and I thrive on them xD**


	9. Chapter 8

**Hey Guys! Another chapter is out! Yay! and it's still Saturday! Which means I'm only a week late in posting xD I promised myself I'd get this chapter out today, so hope you enjoy!**

 **Thank you SO MUCH to gunsAndROSES2656, Attackoneverything, kushina410, SilverDragonM00n, and IzXaRose for your reviews, I absolutely adore and thrive on them. It's you all who help me keep going. So thank you! :D**

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Chapter 8

"What do you mean you have heard rumors about the Fullmetal Alchemist wandering around?" Mustang growled out, angrily, and a bit concerned. His commanding officer, Lieutenant General Edison simply stared at him, chin resting on fingers.

"Just as I said, Colonel Mustang. The Fullmetal Alchemist has been making an appearance to the public for the last two days. Whatever note he'd had about a leave of absence must be a moot point. Seems he wants to be put to work. So I suggest, Colonel, that you put a leash on your subordinate before it gets out of hand."

Mustang stared, dumbfounded, forgetting for a minute just who he was standing in front of. It had been five days since Fullmetal had come into his office, sopping wet, demanding a mission. Five days since they'd received the ridiculous note stating he'd be taking a one month leave of absence. Five damn days that Mustang stressed about the safety of his youngest subordinate.

They'd discovered yesterday from Madame Christmas about the sightings of his subordinate, but that fact begged many questions. How could Fullmetal be helping out the public? Why wouldn't he show his face to his commanding officer? Why wouldn't he be conversing with his brother? Had their fight really been that daunting that Fullmetal felt he couldn't come back? No… that didn't seem like him at all. Something was fishy and Mustang was going to get to the bottom of it. The only logical explanation that his team could come up with was a kidnapping. Yet, if that were the case, how was it that they were hearing those reports from the public themselves? Especially considering just how much respect and admiration the people had for the Fullmetal Alchemist (at least, those who recognized his name, anyway.)

" _Colonel?_ " The Lieutenant General exclaimed, exasperated.

"Yes Sir," Mustang then proclaimed with a salute, his voice less than enthusiastic. He turned about, heading out the door. He walked along the corridor, only pausing a half-step as he wondered what, exactly, was happening with his subordinate.

The previous evening, Mustang had paid a visit to Madame Christmas, hoping that she'd found anything about his Fullmetal. Unfortunately, the results came up to nothing. Apparently Ed "disappeared" on the wrong day. Except, according to Madame Christmas, he never actually disappeared. He'd been making appearances in the city (though a secluded part of the city) and brief in their encounters at that. As if he were a puff of smoke, there for a moment and gone the next. At least, that's how the Fullmetal Alchemist had been described over the last few days. Exasperated, Mustang flipped a hand through his hair, pausing at the door to his office before walking in.

He was met with the stares of the rest of his team, their motions coming to a complete stand-still. Mustang stopped mid-doorway, only for a fraction, observing his team, before continuing forward to sit on an available chair.

"It looks like we are not the only ones informed about the sightings of Fullmetal, now."

"Man, you'd think the kid would at least give us a little headway." Havoc spoke, sullenly.

"Are we sure that this is Fullmetal, though?" Feury piped up,

"Yeah, aren't we as close to family as that kid's got? He should at least have the decency to show his face. Unless Feury is right and this isn't Fullmetal, then the actions would make a lot more sense." Breda sat on the edge of his desk, arms folded in contemplation.

"Whether it is or isn't - and I have no doubt we all believe it isn't - we need to figure this out. Our fellow officers aren't too happy about a prancing state alchemist wandering off doing his own thing." Mustang sighed, equally frustrated.

"Has anyone found any other patterns in the area's which Fullmetal has been sighted?" The question was asked with an exhausted edge to Mustang's tone, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"No sir," Hawkeye chimed in, making her presence known, "according to the public, he's stayed in this area of the city. Not venturing much farther away." All eyes were on her as she talked, watching her walk towards the map which hung on one of the walls, using a finger to point to the circled area they'd donned previously. Mustang stared, contemplating the meaning. The area which Hawkeye circled was in the city, a rather public area to display oneself.

"So why stay so close to the capital if he's trying to hide?" He voiced aloud, irritated that they had little information to go by.

"It does seem a little strange. The area is certainly not the largest one chief could go to, but why go at all? I mean, look at this," Havoc came closer, using his index finger to point out his thoughts, "if chief really wanted to get his name out there, why not choose a different area? Here we've got more of a suburban area, with more parks and grass than shopping districts. Sure plenty of people need things fixed, but the best way to get your abilities known is to display yourself where large crowds are available."

Mustang's breath hitched. Havoc was right. Something was strange about that area. Why choose that place at all? Why stay so close to central, yet not even make contact to his _brother_. Somebody was messing with them, and Mustang didn't like it. His eyes narrowed. Whoever it was, if they were responsible for his subordinates disappearance, they'd regret it. The thought only briefly crossed his mind that Fullmetal could have planned all this, just to get away, but threw it away quickly. It just didn't fit with Edward's character at all.

"I hope he's okay..." Feury worried allowed the mutual thought. Everyone silently agreed, some nodding heads while others just stared at the board.

"What happens if he's not?" Falman spoke up, allowing the question to float in the air that no one really wanted to ask.

"We'll cross that bridge if we have to." Mustang said, refusing to believe that any real harm could be done to the kid. He wouldn't even acknowledge the twinge of doubt that clung to the back of his head and twisted his stomach in knots that something had happened to Edward. Even if he had been kidnapped, the kid could take care of himself. Mustang wouldn't even be surprised if he'd beaten a few of his kidnappers up before they took him down, the kid was so rebellious.

"In the meantime, let's just do our best to get him back where he belongs. I don't think Fullmetal is the kind of person to cruelly tease someone he loves like this. If Alphonse doesn't know where his brother is at, then this person we keep hearing about can't be him." After saying the words out loud, Mustang could feel their truth. This person impersonating the Fullmetal Alchemist would have much to discuss with Mustang once he was caught. If they were lucky, he'd know exactly where the real Fullmetal was at.

"We must keep in mind that this person pretending to be someone he's not may not even have any idea where Fullmetal is at, but it's definitely a start." Mustang heard his phone ringing and distractedly picked it up,

"Colonel Mustang speaking,"

"Colonel?" It was Alphonse on the other line. Mustang felt his heartbeat speed up, maybe Alphonse had found any information?

"What is it, Alphonse? Did you find your brother?" Mustang hardly cared that he spoke just a little too quickly.

"Well… yes and no."

"What do you-"

"It's just… I saw someone that looks _exactly_ like brother, but… it's not brother. At least, I'm pretty sure it's not. I wasn't able to get a good look at him. He ran away once he saw me, and I couldn't find him when I tried to chase him."

" _Where are you_ ," His voice felt too frantic, his heart beating too quickly.

"I'm on the south end of the city, Sir. Near the four corner sushi bars." Mustang's eyes shot instantly to the map. It was, again, the same area where Riza had circled. His gut twisted. Mustang was now certain someone was impersonating his subordinate. The question was, why? Not only that, but how? If they were able to pretend to be a state alchemist, how did they manage to do so? After all, if it started with Fullmetal, who's to say it wouldn't happen to any of the rest of them? Mustang had little doubt that he'd be unable to fend for himself, but if Fullmetal could be taken, any of them could.

What worried Mustang more about this fact was that it was someone from his team. What if they tried to take people from just his team? What if they were targeting Mustang through his team? It sounded almost selfish to be thinking such thoughts, but as it had happened to him in the past, he didn't want to leave anything out. If that was the case…

"Thank you, Alphonse. We'll be sure to investigate right away," His voice was calmer than he felt. "We'll meet you at four corners in half an hour." Hanging up the phone, he strode out of his office into the foyer area where the rest of his team was working. They all looked at him expectantly.

"It looks like those reports were true. Fullmetal, or rather, someone impersonating Fullmetal, was seen by Alphonse in the same district we've been hearing about. If that's the case, we need to get a search party out there, _now_ , before we miss this chance." The chorus of "sir" could be heard, but still expectant.

"Havoc, Breda and Falman, I want you three to go and ask the citizens questions in this same area the supposed Fullmetal Alchemist has been seen. Hawkeye and I will be going as well, but we'll be meeting up with Alphonse and retracing the steps where he saw this Fullmetal we've been hearing so much about. If we're lucky, today's the day we find our Fullmetal Alchemist. Fuery, stay here and watch the phones. I want you to be on guard to call backup in case we need it. Make sure to inform the Strongarm Alchemist as well. I know that he'd like to be involved. Also, let's have Sheska go through all the witness accounts, perhaps she'll notice something we missed."

"Sir!" They all prepared to leave, readying themselves, each one of them praying that today would be the day they found the last (and youngest) member of their team.

* * *

Alphonse was frustrated. He'd been trying to help Colonel Mustang find his brother, yet it didn't matter where they looked, there was no evidence to point out where his brother had gone. Then, it was even more frustrating because he'd have to go sit in the empty dorm room to wait out the night, unable to focus on anything except where his brother could have gone. Why would he have left in the first place? What was he planning? Was Ed really so angry with Alphonse that he had to get away just to feel better? If that was the case, what were they trying to do anyway? Why try to bring him back at all if Alphonse was such an inconvenience to his older brother.

More than frustrated, Alphonse was angry. If his brother was that mad at Alphonse for one silly little fight, and had the nerve to go and display himself in front of others as if mocking him, then maybe it was good they were separated. Except, deep down, Alphonse knew that wasn't why he was angry. He felt hurt more than anything, but feeling angry was easier to deal with. Being angry covered the anguish Alphonse felt and the knowledge that he might be unwanted. Not that he deserved to be wanted by this point. Alphonse was no fool, he knew that he had people who cared about him, but for all the pain he brought upon his brother, did Alphonse really deserve to get his body back? Was it worth it, to watch Ed grow weary and exhausted with each and every day as the years passed? Was it truly worth it, when Alphonse doubted that it was ever gonna happen?

It made Alphonse want to punch something just knowing that he had such doubts. For all Alphonse knew, Ed was actually missing and not just mad at him. But really, could he be blamed after the way his brother had stormed out? Alphonse slammed a fist into the thigh of his armor, unable to resist the satisfying _clunk_ that dented the metal. He hated this so much. He was so worried about his brother!

Unable to concentrate on the book he'd been reading, Alphonse was relieved to note that the sun was rising. With little effort, he stood, leaving his open book to collect dust on the coffee table. Though Alphonse had been searching for his brother, he'd mostly been hoping that Colonel Mustang and his team would have been able to solve this mystery by now. After all, they'd done so in the past. Took at most two days to find his brother but now... now that almost a week had gone by… Alphonse was going to take things into his own hands. Whether Ed wanted to face him or not, Alphonse wasn't going to give him an option any longer. They needed to chat and it needed to happen quickly, before Alphonse made an irrational decision.

He left the dorm as soon as dawn broke, heading in the direction where he'd heard people whispering to each other about the Fullmetal Alchemist. Something was going to happen today, Alphonse was sure of it. He could feel it in his soul that it would. He just hoped it was the kind of discovery he wanted. He strode a leisurely pace, inwardly dying to make a run for it. Unfortunately for Alphonse, being stuck in a large suit of armor meant risks of scaring people if he made too much noise. He couldn't book it through town without causing many to frighten and thereby call the police. It had happened a few times when he was chasing his brother, and though quite funny after the fact, it wasn't a habit Alphonse intended to make.

The day was a clear one, with little clouds to dampen one's spirit; so different from the day he'd last seen his brother. If only it hadn't been raining that day, he could have done something sooner! Gone out to look for Ed before it was too late. Apologize for being angry. Calm his brother down and reassure him that he meant no harm in his actions. Perhaps they would fight. A good spar always seemed to take out the pent up energy Ed seemed to constantly be carrying.

When Alphonse arrived, he took a look at the surrounding area. He'd passed by a few food shops, sparse and nearly empty each one. It seemed like such a strange area. Edward loved eating. Love his food so much so that he'd make sure the restaurant he went to as plenty decent. According to his brother, that is. Al couldn't figure out why he would come to such an area like this. Looking at the homes he'd passed by, many of them looked pretty old. Old enough to need repairs done. It seemed like his brother to help these people, as he was prone to empathy when necessary. But that was the thing. Ed was solely focused on finding the philosopher's stone. If people needed him, they'd have to ask him specifically, otherwise Ed simply wanted to complete their goal. Not that Alphonse was complaining, but it certainly helped him solidify the thought that his brother couldn't be the one helping these people out.

He passed by a small park, it's green edges of grass glittering with morning dew. The sun was beginning to peak higher in the sky, and people were shuffling out of their homes, ready to start a new day. Some burst open their shutters, birds flew from being startled, crickets stopped their chirping as the dark of night turned and stirred the morning creatures. So much life going on around him, yet Alphonse felt as if his world was stopped. That it would be stopped until he found his brother once again. After only a moment longer, Al moved on, away from the park, hoping to find some clue, to understand just a little about the choice made to work in such a suburban area.

He walked until he came upon an intersection filled with competing sushi bars on each corner. Few cars had thrummed their engines alive, already going towards their destinations. The red light held only some people up, and Alphonse could see agitation alite in the eyes of those in a hurry, as if getting a late start to the already early morning.

It seemed only logical to Alphonse that _this_ was the place where the Fullmetal Alchemist would show up. If he was, indeed, his brother, then it was the perfect place to go when looking for potential clients. Or rather, citizens to help. Perhaps this is the kind of work his brother needed? Alphonse had felt very frustrated with his brothers antics previously, not quite understanding how he wouldn't let anyone help. Maybe this was a way in which Edward was leaking out his own frustration? Alphonse watched with great interest, praying he would see his brother pass by; but when two hours had passed, and the streets were only just barely busier and not a red coat in sight, Alphonse sighed.

"C'mon brother, a little help here please!" He muttered, walking away from the intersection. He'd walked several blocks, pausing to look behind him one last time, when he did a double take. A short, blonde bob with an unmistakeable red coat and nicholas flamel signia on the back stood out, weaving in and out of human bodies towards one of the sushi stands on the corner.

Alphonse felt his soul jolt, and suddenly found himself running.

"Brother!" He yelled as loud as he could, afraid he was too far away to be heard. But a giant suit of armor running quickly made quite a lot of noise. Every head turned to look his way, some looking terrified while other's gaped. Edward turned to look his way, and Alphonse watched in anticipation for his brother to come running towards him. However, Ed made no move to close the gap. Then, the closer Alphonse got, the clearer Ed's face became, and the more confused Alphonse felt. It was like, he was seeing his brother, but his face seemed off. Broader. Almost… older. He slowed his pace, suddenly questioning whether his brother had that big of a fan base that they were willing to dress like him.

The Edward that wasn't Edward watched him, almost bemused, before turning the opposite direction and fleeing.

"Wait!" Alphonse cried, an arm outstretched, "Brother! Where are you going? Please! Just talk to me!" By now, Alphonse was faking his worry. Whoever this was, he intended to find out. Even if that meant he had to pretend. When his brother-not-his-brother turned and ran, Alphonse chased after him for a minute or two before re-thinking his situation. He needed to get Colonel Mustang and his team down here stat! The guy couldn't go that far, right? Alphonse turned and quickly found a phone booth near the intersection. He stared at the phone, realizing he had no money. He twisted about, searching for anyone earby.

"Excuse me!" Alphonse called out, stopping a man who looked in a hurry for work, "do you happen to have any money I could use for the payphone?" The man gave Alphonse a once over before scurrying away, acting as if he never stopped for the intimidating suit of armor.

"You could've at least said no," Alphonse pouted, turning about, "excuse me!" he stopped a woman who looked a lot like sheska, though she had blonde hair which was longer, and pulled back in a shaggy ponytail. She glanced up at Alphonse, gasping a little at his size. "No, please! I just need some help." The woman cautiously backed up a step, but didn't run away. She simply blinked at him, holding a fist close to her chest. Her casual clothing (a light, cream and pastel purple colors) complimenting her skin. She seemed nice enough.

"Please, I just need some change to use the payphone," As much as he tried, Alphonse couldn't keep the urgency from his voice. The woman looked at him, then at the payphone nearby, then up at him once more; and smiled.

"Sure," She brought up her wallet-purse, fumbling through the zippers to grab some cenz to give him. Alphonse couldn't help but look in the direction he last saw his brother, feeling more urgent to call the colonel as time passed. When she finally pulled out the money, Alphonse extended his large, hollow hand out and the woman hesitantly placed the change in his hands and as soon as his fingers curled around the money, he turned about, rushing to the payphone and calling out a quick "thanks!" leaving the woman surprised in his wake.

"Colonel Mustang speaking,"

"Colonel?"

"What is it, Alphonse? Did you find your brother?"

"Well… yes and no." How could Alphonse describe just what he saw? It was weird, even to him.

"What do you-"

"It's just… I saw someone that looks _exactly_ like brother, but… it's not brother. At least, I'm pretty sure it's not. I wasn't able to get a good look at him. He ran away once he saw me, and I couldn't find him when I tried to chase him." Alphonse suddenly felt that if he didn't get the information out quick enough, they'd lose any track of their lead he'd just discovered.

" _Where are you_ ," Alphonse felt a little relieved that Mustang seemed to feel just as frantic.

"I'm on the south end of the city, Sir. Near the four corner sushi bars." Alphonse turned to look around, hoping beyond hope that he'd see his brother-not-his-brother.

"Thank you, Alphonse. We'll be sure to investigate right away," Relief could've swept over his entire being at the statement. They knew just how urgent this was, too! Alphonse wasn't alone in this. "We'll meet you at four corners in half an hour." They said a quick goodbye and Alphonse stepped out of the phone booth. If he had had his body back, he would have bit his lip, wondering if he really should wait, or try going after Edward himself. Perhaps he'd be able to figure this case out himself? Alphonse started walking the way he last saw his brother-not-his-brother before stopping. It'd be better if he had back-up, just in case. Alphonse was usually the more rational of the brother's, and it wasn't good to stop being so just because he was distraught.

So, against his desire that lurked on the tip of Alphonse's soul, he waited by the payphone for Mustang and his team.

* * *

Edward felt awful. He tried his best to keep his breathing sharp and deliberate, but dammit it all to hell he _hurt_. The very act of moving his body brought on waves of pain and dizziness. He couldn't even have the joy of seeing anything as they used those eye drops more than three times each day. However, that wasn't before they took the house cat, and tortured it to death. The memory of its cries… Ed would never be able to forget. Never would Ed be able look at the creatures without remembering just what they sounded like in pain. No… it hurt to much to think that he could do _nothing_ as his captors laughed in his face. It was even worse when, after the poor thing was dead, they set the mangled body on his lap, laughing at the tears which he could not deny were falling. Though he tried to look away, they forced him to look, to _see_ just what he was unable to save.

It made it worse by the fact that the creature had been a small ball of sunshine in his otherwise shitty world. It had even tried to befriend him, came close to his legs, limping as it did so, to try and give _him_ comfort. This was soon after they had piped through his stomach, having given little thought to the blisters that popped up after cauterizing that wound as well. One look, and Ed could tell…

His body was a mess.

What little food they'd given him, Edward was barely able to keep down. The first time, after having been tortured, he literally couldn't stomach the food. He'd thrown up all over Macabé, who glowered at him. Ed didn't miss the purple bruise that ran along his cheekbone. What was worse… Macabé came back. Came back and unhooked Ed from his chains, but not before having injected him with the same substance that they'd used to make his body turn to jelly. Ed couldn't begin to remember what the substance was now; all he knew, was that it terrified him. To no longer be in control. To be unable to do anything as Macabé used him in the most grotesque and humiliating way, not even able to cry out from the pain. How was he supposed to recover from that?

The fire that they'd had going had fizzled out, never bothering to rekindle its flames, thank whatever God was up there. However, the fading of its heat brought about a cold chill in the room. Whether or not it was cold outside, it felt almost like winter inside.

Ed was also positive he wasn't alone in this basement. He'd heard not only the wails of other animals, but he was pretty certain he'd heard other people as well. Everything seemed muffled when the door was closed. However, things still passed through. So it was with the pounding of his heart that Ed heard a door opening, It took only a few seconds longer to realize it was his own door that opened.

"I almost ran into my brother today," Wannabe Edward casually shuffled about the room, as if nothing was amiss. Ed coughed, taking no notice of the blood that dribbled down his chin (hah, as if he could actually see it), not wanting to listen to what the jerk had to say. _Wait… does he mean Alphonse?_ Ed's ears perked up as he then decided maybe what the kid had to say would be worthwhile, no matter how much Ed seethed on the inside. There was also that twinge of jealousy. Alphonse was _his_ brother. _He_ wanted to see Al. So, Ed listened.

"We nearly passed each other on the streets. He looks the same as ever. Good ol' Alphonse." Ed grit his teeth at the familiarity which his imposter thought he could use.

"Not wanting to talk today?" Feet shuffled closer to Ed, and he subconsciously tried to back away, his torso complaining painfully at being stretched. He tried not to tremble, really he did, he even tried not to flinch when he felt fingers grasp his shoulder; but so much had happened to Ed, that he expected the pain to come. Even if he vainly hoped it wouldn't happen.

"Don't worry, my young counterpart. Today, I have places to be, people to visit. You won't see me for a while. Perhaps not even until tonight." Fake Edward patted his matted head, laughing when Ed tried to duck further away from the touch. He gasped when cold water was dumped over his body, feeling the sting in every cut and gash they'd created. "Try not to get too dehydrated. You could die way too soon if that happened." Ignoring this, Ed sighed shakily in relief when he heard Fake Edward leave the room.

So… it was daytime? Time seemed to be irrelevant to Ed now. He wasn't even sure how many days had passed since he was kidnapped. Did they even know that he was missing? Would Mustang care? No, that was a dumb question. Of course he'd care. His prodigy subordinate was missing and without Ed, Mustang couldn't get further up the chain of command.

Except, the longer he was here, the longer Ed began to doubt they even knew he was gone. How could they know he was gone when there was someone who looked like him roaming about? They wouldn't know anything until it was time to give him another mission, and by then… who knows what would happen to Ed? Would he even still be alive? Did he want to be? Those thoughts had creeped up more than once and every time they did, Ed would have to consciously think of Alphonse, trapped in a metal suit. When he remembered this, remembered just how, exactly, that happened, Ed would nod his head, knowing he still had a goal he needed to desperately accomplish.

Ed shivered, wishing he could wrap himself up in a blanket, and curl up with a good alchemy book. What an awful brother he was, to have such thoughts, when it should be Alphonse thinking them. Did Alphonse think like that? Did Alphonse simply stay alive just because Ed wanted him to be? Should Ed have let Alphonse decide whether or not he wanted to continue living life, instead of selfishly denied that that could be a possibility? Ed really hoped he hadn't hurt Alphonse by not wanting to give him that choice. And anyway, was it really a choice that should be on the table in the first place? Committing suicide was still committing suicide. Right? Even when he was just a soul?

Ed's lip trembled at the thought, feeling the onslaught of tears just behind his closed eyes; the burn in his nose. He was far too emotional these days.

The sound of the door opening jolted Ed out of his terrible musings, and he blearily looked up to see a determined Karly strutting towards him. He could almost _hear_ Karly smirk as she placed a manicured hand along his shoulder, walking around behind him, letting her hand caress him from shoulder to shoulder, dismissing his blood she smeared over her hands and all over him. She paused at his left, bending forward to whisper in his ear.

"Have you ever felt pleasure, Edward?" The only response she got was the shunning of Ed's head and the staggering shudders of his breath, eyes clamped shut. She laughed a soulless sound, amused at the young prodigy's antics. "You're such a whore I bet you _want_ me to show you." She kissed his cheek, lingering, allowing her red lipstick to smear. "And I bet that I was the first woman you've ever had the chance to pleasure." She laughed against his ear, "well, there's so much for you to learn, my little alchemy bitch." A hand snaked down his ribcage, stroking his thigh, before grabbing him all too smoothly, pressing her escaped bosom close to his face.

"I just _love_ it when you squirm." Karly had moved to straddle herself on Ed, giggling at his shaking form. "You know…" She twisted a finger around the loose strands of Ed's dulled, oily locks, resting an elbow painfully against a nook in his shoulder, "Macabé and the true Fullmetal Alchemist are going to be… away for a while... which means…" Smiling lustfully, her finger stroked his jaw-line with the tip of her nail, "I get you all to myself." Her head was so close, Ed could feel the heat leaving her body, "for hours."

Ed shook his head hastily, feeling sweat fall off his eyebrow onto his eyelid. "Please… no!" His words were cut off, however, when Karly jerked his head towards her and thwomped her lips against his.

When she finished taking pleasure in defiling Ed (to Ed's relief, it _couldn't_ have been hours like she'd suggested,) both panting from the exertion, their naked bodies hot and sweaty and mingling together, Karly smirked, then felt need to give parting pecks on his trembling lips; she casually continued to touch him, poking her fingers in fresh wounds and burn marks. Ed was so weak, silent tears streaming down his cheeks, he could barely move his stomach to breath, let alone make cries of pain. They were more like whimpers.

"You give _such_ a good time, my disgusting little alchemy bitch." A hand tenderly stroked Ed's cheek, wiping away the bloody tears onto parched and trembling lips. She had her face close to his, staring, smiling. Ed refused to acknowledge her presence. Refused to turn his head and look her in the eye. Ed may no longer have his dignity, but he still had some semblance of stubbornness and pride.

"Still defiant, are you?" Karly noticed icily, her salty smile too close to Ed's cheek, "I think it's time we beat that out of you, don't you?" Still stark naked and sweaty and gross, Ed flinched when she brought her chest up to Ed's back, resting her cheek against his. "But first, I can't have you yelling so loudly." Daintily easing her way back into the small red dress she'd initially wore every time she visited Ed, Karly sauntered her way towards the cart of torture equipment. She bent over, seeming to try and use her backside to get an arousal out of Ed, even at a time like this. Even though she'd already used her silky fingers to touch him, lathered her body all over him and defiled him; and Ed could do nothing but glance away, chained to the chair as he was.

"Aha!" She exclaimed happily, holding up her treasure to her face. Ed dared not look, too afraid to see just what she'd chosen to hurt him. She forced his vision to see, anyway. She came up close, holding what looked to be a sewing needle close to Ed's eyes. He jerked back, suddenly terrified that she'd blind him with the needle. Karly, though, had other plans.

"See this?" She then held up her other hand, bringing into view several more needles. Ed didn't even want to _think_ about what she had planned for him. She didn't give him the luxury of waiting, though. Karly smiled, looking at the needles before plunging one into Ed's flesh shoulder. Ed jerked back against the seat, the pinching pain surprising him. When he looked at his shoulder, he could see the needle, stuck in his body as if he were a sewing cushion. Karly never bat an eye, placing three more next to the one, making sure she left one in her hand. "Thank you for being a dear and holding those for me. It will make this so much easier."

A hand shot out, painfully grabbing Ed's jaw. Karly straddled him as best she could, trying to get closer. Her body rubbed against his belly, the cauterized wound, having already been rubbed against earlier, now beginning to peel and bleed. Ed tried to pull himself out of her grasp, opting for the pain the needles in his shoulder created verses whatever she was about to do. Karly sighed, irritated.

"If you would just hold still, it'd make this a whole lot easier." Growing impatient, Karly slapped Ed, his cheek stinging. She'd hit him hard enough that he felt a little disoriented, giving her enough time to begin what she'd started. He groaned, feeling slightly dizzy as Karly once again painfully gripped his jaw. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to watch as she carved her own form of drawing on his face. What he got, however was a sewing needle piercing his lips harshly. Surprised, Ed's eyes snapped open and he screamed something muted. Tears came quickly; and though Ed tried to pull his head away from Karly's unwavering stare, she held steadfast, her smirking face too close.

"See? You're not as loud." She plucked another needle out of Ed's shoulder, the wound oozing a out a small trickle of blood. Ed whimpered, this time struggling harder than he had before to get his head out of her hands. She'd left the needle in his lips, its sharp tip scraping the side of his nose. Ed barely noticed. Karly was able to get a second needle into his lower lip, before sighing and letting go.

"You're being so uncooperative. If you would just hold still, I could finish faster." Ed felt absolutely no sympathy for her exasperation. "No matter," she replied, plucking out the last two and plunged them through Ed's lower lip simultaneously. He screamed with clenched teeth, body shaking, far too aware of this new pain. Karly, still straddling Ed, still grasping her sweaty palm on his sweaty jaw, brushed a finger over the bloody needles, allowing the blood to smear along her finger. Ed jerked again, the pain a simple touch created seemingly too much.

He could feel, in the back of his throat, the need to throw up. Panting as best he could, tasting his own blood as it spilled from the wounds on his lips, he tried to alleviate the need, not wanting to rip the needle out of his lip unnaturally if he happened to actually throw up. Even if it would be satisfying to deface Karly's body with it.

Karly soon got off him, heading once again towards the cart. She picked up a few bottles of liquid, reading their labels, before deciding on one. Using a shot needle to suck up the liquid, Karly then made her way back to Ed, stooping over his arm and plunging the needle into the crook of his flesh elbow, allowing the liquid to enter his system. It wasn't long before Ed felt strange. Like he was living an out-of-body experience. He'd felt that before, the first time he'd been raped, but this time, something was different. Like he was floating, yet grounded. He looked to where he remembered Karly was standing then sucked in a painful breath, shocked. There stood Hawkeye, looking at him expectantly. It was then that Ed realized he'd been saved.

Except Hawkeye's image only frowned at him, barely moving an inch; but Ed felt far too relieved to notice. If Hawkeye was here, then Mustang had to be too. They had to have found him! Finally! How long had it been? Except, when Hawkeye spoke, her voice didn't match Ed's memory. Nor did the words she spoke make any sense.

"Hm, I thought you weren't supposed to be able to move." Hawkeye strode up close, giving him a once over. Ed's cheeks burned with embarrassment and he looked away, not wanting her to take an especially close look at his nakedness; his weakness. Where was everyone? How had he not noticed Hawkeye entering the room? What happened to Karly? A hand turned his trembling head, and he was once again looking at Hawkeye. She frowned at him, looking into his eyes. Why wasn't she more concerned? Shouldn't she be calling for help? Ed definitely wouldn't say his condition was good.

Then it dawned on him that something wasn't right. That Hawkeye must not be hawkeye. Then Ed remembered that he didn't actually remember knowing what happened to Karly. Realizing this, he glanced at Hawkeye and her image faded in and out as if she were a hologram and Ed could see that she was really Karly, not Hawkeye. Needless to say, Ed's disappointment was infallible.

His breathing hitched, the window of the oncoming hyperventilating window growing shorter and shorter with each passing moment.

"Hey!" The Karly-Hawkeye said sternly, slapping his face. For what it was worth, Ed concentrated on what she had to say. Anything but the pain and swelling of his lips, or the rusty iron taste of his own blood. Anything but the hellhole he was in. However, that desire was short-lived. Karly-Hawkeye lifted a hand near his face, uncaring whether Ed tried to avoid her touch or not, before taking the needle that pierced his top and bottom lip and twisted it, ever so slowly. Ed whimpered loudly, the small, piercing white pain churning his insides.

"These disgusting lips of yours are just so… plump, now. I can't wait to get a taste of them," Karly-Hawkeye spoke, her face too close to his, still twisting the needle, allowing her tongue to roll across his cheekbone, tasting the silent tears that fell from Ed's clamped eyes. He felt the breath of her laugh as she plucked out the needles, placing them into the same wounds which they had initially created. Slowly, she backed away, allowing her other hand to caress his chin as she did so.

"Until next time, my little whore. If we're lucky, we'll get this nice alone time together, again." She backed away, though Ed didn't see, his head had fallen to his chest. He heard her blow him a kiss before leaving him to himself once more.

* * *

 **So, I was wondering what you all would like to see in future chapters? I've got several idea's, but I'd love to hear from you what you'd enjoy reading about. :D Whether it be while Ed is captured, or when he's recovering (as I plan on writing about that, too) please let me know! I'd sincerely appreciate it. You all freakin' rock!**

 **Ja'ne my amazing readers!**


	10. Chapter 9

**Well guys, I am finally posting! So sorry that it took me longer than 2 weeks! This chapter is officially the longest chapter I have ever written! 12, 286 words! 20 1/2 pages long! Holy crap! Quite the difference compared to my normal 9 pages xD I had thought about splitting the chapter up, but i decided that since this is the climax, I'd leave it be. Besides... if you're anything like me, you'll love a long chapter, ne?**

 **Anyway, thank you SO MUCH to my reviewers IzXaRose, Attackoneverything, DarkFlameFantasy, Kushina410, Yajj, Kas3y, and my awesome 2 guests! I can't tell you how happy those reviews all made me, and take note that I heard you. :) I have meant to have this story kinda go slower before Ed's rescue, as I felt it important information for the reader to know. His deterioration and all that, ya know? (Initially I had planned on Ed being rescued by chapter 6. Crazy right? xD)**

 **I also feel the need to warn you once again about the graphic nature of this story. It's especially true here, as it has been before, but for some reason, it seemed necessary to say once again.**

 **Now... on to the story!**

* * *

A deep, black void, so thick you could slice through with a knife and still have no way to move forward, yet you _had_ to swim through, was all he could see. He'd move, hopping as if there was little gravity, watching as bubbles appeared from his fingers trying to propel him forward. No light penetrated the darkness. The only thing he _could_ see, was himself, walking but seemingly going nowhere.

"Al?" He called, listening as his voice echoed. "Alphonse?" He tried again, feeling a panic arise in his gut. He turned in circles, searching, hoping to find somebody to help him. Why was he alone? Why was it so dark? Why did no one come when he asked it of them? Not even his brother came to help him out. His lip trembled. He felt so alone. With a crouch, Ed hugged his knees, squeezing his eyes tight.

"Please," he whispered. A creaking noise echoed in the darkness and suddenly, Ed found himself jerking awake. He glanced up, squinting, to see who had entered the room.

"Very good. You're lucky we didn't have to wake you. We've run out of fingernails to pull." Ed trembled, looking away from his look-alike. Memories of cries that weren't his echoed in his brain. He tried to block them out.

"You've been such a good boy, Eddy, we thought you deserved something to eat. Here." The imposter held out what looked like an innocent bread bite. Ed didn't trust it.

"Oh come on, I didn't poison it. Open up." The bread bite was held against Ed's swollen lips, Fake Edward looking at him impatiently to eat the piece. Slowly, hesitantly, since his stomach was growling at the very smell of the bread, Ed cautiously opened his mouth, wincing as the scabs pulled at the healing wounds on his lips, and a recent wound to the corner of his mouth had yet to mend together. The metallic taste of his blood mingled with the tang of the bread, and Ed could feel his stomach reeling with the flavor. He chewed slowly, deliberately, hoping to quell the queasy feeling. It would not bode well to throw up all over his captor. Repercussions would come harshly if he did so. Repercussions he was just too weary to experience at that moment.

"Good boy, Eddy. You're doing well." He began to tear off another piece of bread.

"S..stop calling me-"

"What was that?" Fake Edward looked at him with a smile and eyes that shone with menace. Ed instantly shut up, fearing those eyes. Eyes that looked like his, somehow. It made his blood boil to think about it, and it irritated him further to know that he was too afraid to speak his mind. When had that begun to be a thing? If he was to be afraid, it should be at Mustang for sending him to some unruly part of the country with nothing to show for it then coming back and facing his wrath at making him wait ('cause yes, sometimes Ed purposely made him what. The bastard deserved it sometimes.)

If he was to be afraid, it should be towards Hawkeye and the way she makes him salute her just to 'keep him on his toes when the time comes that he really needs to step up his game.' Yup. Her words. Ed could have laughed at the memory if smiling didn't hurt so much. If he wasn't sitting in a chair naked and humiliated, being fed like a baby, perhaps he would have. Ed hunched over when his stomach gave a little lurch. Something about that bread didn't sit right with him and Ed knew he wasn't going to take another bite if he wanted to keep everything down.

"Would you like some water?" Fake Edward grabbed a water bottle filled with water (as per its use) and held it towards Ed expectantly. Ed glanced up from his hunched position to briefly look at the tantalizing water, mouth salivating at its sloshing. As much as he wanted that water, Ed knew: there was no way that the wannabe would just give him the water without repercussions. So he said nothing.

Fake Edward raised an eyebrow, and Ed was once again reminded of how much the kid really did look like him. Or did he look like the kid? The longer he was held there, the more confused he felt about himself. About his actual reality. What if everything he had been thinking about was all something he had just imagined? What if he had always been there? It felt like he had always been there. What if he just dreamed he was on such a gargantuan quest to save his brother from a terrible fate.

Alphonse… Ed pictured Alphonse.

The suit of armor that he was.

The kid he used to be.

 _Alphonse…_

The name was like a whisper on Ed's mind. He prayed that he would see him again. See his brother. His beautiful, kind, caring, gentle brother. His brother who cared about him. Eddy. No... Edward Elric. Suddenly, words from a deep baritone man with charcoal eyes that stared at him as if he new that Ed was braver and stronger than he sometimes believed himself to be, popped into his head.

" _Hey there, Fullmetal."_ Ed sucked in a breath at the memory. That's right. _He_ was the Fullmetal Alchemist, dammit! He locked eyes with his wannabe, sitting up just a little taller.

"Get that out of my face," he spat, daring to be strong and confident, even if his insides squirmed under the stare of the kid just a little older than he (at least, Ed believed he was older. Who's to say what the kid's actual age was when he didn't give up that information?)

"No?" Fake Edward shrugged, taking a disgusting gulp of the liquid himself, smacking his lips together with satisfaction, before placing it beside his feet. The fake had taken a chair when he began to feed Ed, sitting in front of him. "Your loss, then."

They stared at one another, one shivering and sweating all at once, while the other had his arms and legs crossed, contemplating.

"It's just you and me, today, Eddy. Blair couldn't come, unfortunately." He sniffed, briefly rubbing under his nose. The action reminded Ed that he had an itch on his forehead that had been there for hours. Damn that itch! Damn that wannabe for reminding him!

Finally disliking the silence, Fake Edward leaned his elbows against his knees, watching Ed with a sparkle in his eyes.

"You know, the interesting thing is, I've always been the Fullmetal Alchemist. You? You're just a worthless little boy who only had the decency of holding my place for me. Which I thank you for." He gave a condescending pat on Ed's head, the pitying look on his face ever telling of how much he cared. Ed hated that look. Hated that the kid looked so much like him. Hated that he felt as if he deserved every single contemptual thing the kid did to him. Hated being unable to do a thing about it.

Ed spit in his face.

Fake Edward blinked, wiping away the bloody spittle from his cheek, laughing with salty derision.

"I feel sorry for you. Always have, really. This poor, young boy with no place in the world." He smiled, again, with contempt, taunting Ed, "Well, this is why I am here. To help give you a place. Give you a _purpose_." Fake Edward spoke to him with such condescension, looked at him with such pity, Ed wanted to hide. Hide, and at the same time gouge the kids' eyes out. This couldn't really be his purpose!

"I swear, when I get out of here, you will wish I was a killer," Ed promised, his voice shaking, lips cracking, eyes blazing with anger.

"Get out? Why would you want to leave, Eddy? I've given you a home." Ed didn't like the glint he saw in his captor's eyes, in the way he half smiled with nothing to smile over, or in the way the fake's hand lazily traced his own swollen and bloodied hand. Fake Edward stood abruptly, wiping his hands to smear away Ed's blood. With a sarcastic sigh, glancing at the ceiling, Fake Edward put hands on his hips, then stared at Ed. Cold golden eyes met dirtied and oily blonde hair. Ed had no desire to share "secret" looks with the kid anymore.

"You know what? You're right. I shouldn't be keeping you here," Ed's head snapped up instantly, staring gravely at the imposter, "you should get back home to my brother and to everyone you think is waiting for you." Fake Edward clapped his hands and released the shackles holding Ed's hands and feet. Ed didn't move, didn't speak. He watched carefully, wondering just what, exactly, the imposter had planned.

"Well go on now!" Fake Edward moved towards the door, opening it and stood off to the side, allowing Ed to pass through. Ed glanced at the door, his only way out. This could be his only chance of escape. The last one he had left. After all, it was unlikely that Alphonse and Mustang and the team were searching for him. If they were real… Ed couldn't wait for them to realize that something was wrong. It was already too late. Too much had already been done to him, but Ed wasn't done fighting yet. He carefully used the palm of his hand to hoist himself up, nearly falling from the effort. His whole body shook, but Ed was determined. Determined to see his brother again. To see this asshole _pay_.

Ed had never felt such anger towards someone in his life, nor had he ever been so afraid of a group of people. He hated it. As much as he hated what they had done to him, he couldn't _stand_ that he was so afraid. So, Ed stood, as straight as he possibly could, with as much dignity as he could muster being stark naked and covered in blood, assessing his injuries and how fast he could move. His automail leg, though not broken to pieces, pressed against his flesh, where lacerations had been made. Had pieces of wire poking out, cut from their original place. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the ever prevalent shake his body had become accustomed to, then bolted.

His plan, due to previous unfortunate and unstoppable events, backfired.

It felt so pathetic, really. Ed felt so humiliated and sick with himself. What he had initially planned to be quick and painless as possible turned into the walk of a hobble. The moment he pressed down on his swollen and bloodied foot, Ed felt pain shoot up his leg in protest. He found that he couldn't move as fast as he wanted, and in fact, after three hobbled runs, he fell. Face down in the dirt. Though he'd tried to stop himself, he had, without hesitation, thrust his swollen and bloodied hand forward, hoping to soften the fall. It only served to cripple him further. Ed gave a short cry before quickly silencing it, spitting out dust from the concrete floor, breathing heavily.

 _C'mon, Ed! Get your act together! Don't waste this chance!_ Snapping his eyes open, Ed moved to lift himself off the ground. Ever since that first tug against his automail, Ed had had a hard time moving the arm without pain. He was certain that the bastard had messed it up. Even now, when he tried moving it, he could feel that white pain encroaching the edge of his vision. He opted to move only his flesh arm, shaking harshly as he felt more shooting pain pulsate through his arm. His hand wasn't the only part of his arm that had been messed up.

The burn on his shoulder, the needles that had never been taken out of the top of his shoulder, the cuts that laced the top and bottom of his arm, the swollen dislocated finger, the missing fingernails… it kept adding up. Shakily, so much so that even Ed could see his own shaking (even though his eyes were still blurry,) Ed brought his automail knee underneath to help lift himself up. He coughed, ignoring the blood that came from the corner of his mouth. It seemed that wound would never heal unless he got some actual rest and rehabilitation. Which would probably never come.

So caught up in his weak effort to get up, Ed had forgotten about his imposter. The kid who thought he was the Fullmetal Alchemist. So much horror was Ed's life at that moment that he was actually inclined to believe the kid, too. Almost. Hallucinating Hawkeye couldn't be fabricated. Right? Or maybe she was just a figment of his imagination too. Maybe Ed had made her up, in an effort to escape this hell. That kind of thing wasn't entirely impossible. Except Ed wasn't stupid enough to believe that. No… he had to be the Fullmetal Alchemist. He had an automail right arm, and automail left leg. That could only belong to the Fullmetal Alchemist. Not only that, he was considered the kid's counterpart. The kid who claimed to be the Fullmetal Alchemist, yet had not an ounce of metal on his flesh. Ed was the Fullmetal Alchemist. Not this… this _fake._ He _, Edward Elric,_ was the Fullmetal Alchemist!

The feel of a boot on his whipped back jolted Ed out of his thoughts, as it pushed hard and slammed his stomach into the concrete. This time, Ed couldn't stop the yell. His stomach hurt _so much_ it was unfair that he had no time to heal. The concrete scraped his whole front, knocking the wind out of him. Fake Edward tsked.

"I gave you such a good opportunity to leave, yet you didn't take it. What good was my gift, if you didn't want to partake of it? Hm?" Fake Edward bent down, hands on hips, looking at Ed expectantly. Ed huffed, laying his cheek on the ground, trying not to look up at the stupid kid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, annoying, ridiculous, wannabe that couldn't get his own life! If only Ed could move, he'd stick a bar up the kids ass.

He grit his teeth, anger rising at how idiotic he'd been. Though he sometimes had a hard time remembering who he was, he could still remember how he was captured; and it was just so stupid! How could he have let himself fall for such an easy attack?

The snapping of fingers brought Ed back to attention. When had he lost it?

"Hey! You're not allowed to fade away into your mind! Alright, fine. If you want it done the hard way, that's what we'll do." Fake Edward huffed, walking over to the cart of torture equipment. Ed furrowed his brow, panic urging him to get up and _get out_ , too scared of what would happen next. His limbs didn't listen. Just screamed and protested that they were _too much_ in pain to move.

Fake Edward walked back, a sewing needle and a small hammer in hand. Ed prayed that he wasn't about to do what Karly had done to him. Luckily (hah, as if more torture of a different nature could be considered lucky,) his lips were not what Fake Edward went for; instead, he took Ed's flesh hand and thrust it forward, then painfully straightened each finger against the cement surface. Ed's eyes widened, suddenly terrified of just what was gonna happen, and resisted weakly. The movement was enough to agitate the fake.

Fake Edward, growling with annoyance, stepped back a second, clapping his hands together to create a tight hoop over Ed's wrist, each individual finger, waist, and legs.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Ed cried out, ignoring the pain talking created, "what the hell do you think you're doing, you bastard!"

Fake Edward tsked again, sitting on his heels, holding up the sewing needle and small hammer.

"What have I told you about that mouth of yours, Eddy? You must be punished every time you are bad, remember? I was only planning on doing one, but I guess all five will have to suffice."

"Wh-whaddya mean?" Ed stuttered, terrified. Fake Edward then placed the sharp end of the needle on a nailless thumb, "wha-whadder you doin?" Ed panicked, wincing as he tried harder to force his arm out of its new restraints. So scared of what was going to happen, that Ed brought his automail hand to try and stay the needle and hammer.

"Now, Eddy, you don't want to be punished worse, do you?" Fake Edward stood, then _stomped_ on Ed's automail shoulder, thereby nullifying his desire to even move the arm, and proceeded back into his previous position.

"Helium, Linoleum, Beryllium..." Ed muttered, doing his best to forget the present. Strategically placing the needle, Fake Edward aimed, then hammered the needle smack-dab down the middle of Ed's thumb, piercing through flesh and bone.

Ed yelled a cry of agony. It wasn't the same kind of agony as having a piping hot rod slice through his stomach, but the pain was just as real, and just as much. He pressed his forehead hard into the cement, crying out, no longer having a desire to even move his hand. Fake Edward took his pointer finger next, and did the same thing. Then took his ring finger, and then his pinky, hammering in the sewing needle into his fingers just so that he couldn't move his hand from its place, having dug lightly into the cement. Fake Edward lastly took his middle finger, the one that had been dislocated that first day and never fixed, and pulled his finger out as far as it would go, before hammering in the needle.

Ed growled out a yell and huffed, not even caring that tears and snot were rolling steadily onto the cement. That the smell of his own fecal matter and urine were stronger the closer he was to the floor. Or that the smell of decay was heavy in the air around them. All he wanted to do was pass out. To no longer feel the pain. He couldn't take it! He wanted his hell to be over! He didn't want to be here a minute longer! He was _so_ done with being tortured. If he could just die, he would be happy. If he no longer had to live this constant pain. Was that too much to ask? He would just have to trust that Alphonse would find a way to get his body back himself, because this was just _too much._

 _I'm so sorry Al… I just… I can't do it anymore. If I see mom, I'll say hi to her. I just… I just want to die, Al._ _ **I'm so sorry!**_

His mind screamed for relief, but relief was not a gift he was given. No, not even unconsciousness was given to him. Fake Edward came forward, the solution of droplets in hand, forcing Ed's contorted eyes open one at a time and administered several droplets into each. Ed pinched his eyes shut afterward, knowing the outcome, but not wanting to see it, feeling too delirious and in agony to care.

Fake Edward stood over him a moment longer, before stretching a hand to stroke Ed's back, caressing none too lightly over the fingernail scratches and whip marks that littered his back, taking his time, before stopping at his butt to caress it softly. Then, without warning, the wannabe slapped the minimal fat of Ed's butt, before patting it "gently". After a moment longer, he stood, groaning as he stretched.

"Karly and Macabé should be here shortly. They said they had some unfinished business with their disgusting alchemist. I believe they mean you." Ed kept his shaky breath quiet, never acknowledging the kid. A moment later, the fake walked to the open door, "have fun while you can! I've got so much more in store for you! I promise you won't die, yet!"

Ed's heart fell at the words. Could someone actually _control_ when you died? Was it possible? Was Truth that much of an asshole that It let sick and twisted people have their fun, allowing them to prolong life until they were satisfied _before_ the tortured soul met Truth once again? That was unfair! Ed was calling Truth out on that. It was unfair to allow someone to hurt this much for this long!

All this time, being stuck in this basement, being tortured... Ed had been praying to stay alive. To make sure he could see his brother once more, and that wish had been granted. Now that he actually wanted to die… would he actually get that chance? Would it be granted him? Or would he be doomed to live out the rest of his life being tortured to death?

Did it even matter any more?

What did Ed have to live for, any longer? Who would want to help him anyway? He'd done so much damage.

He wasn't worth it.

Especially now. After everything that had been done to him, all the pain he was experiencing… in some ways… Ed deserved this. Or, he felt he did. After all the pain and hurt he caused those around him, he didn't deserve to live a happy life. Alphonse did. Winry did. Granny Pinako did. Everyone on Mustang's team did. None of them had committed the taboo. None of them had caused their family member to lose their entire _body_ because of it.

Ed knew he was wallowing in self pity, but for the life of him he couldn't care. He was tethered to the ground like an animal, nailed - as it were - to the cement, with no way of getting himself free without the intense pain following side by side his efforts. Not that he was able to pull his hand or arm out, anyway. Not that he'd be able to transmute anyway. His hand was too deadlocked to even turn it sideways. Not to mention his automail shoulder hurt far too much.

What did it even matter?

The sound of clacking on the other side of the door set Ed's heart pumping. He knew that clacking. Once she was right up to the door, Ed heard her muttering something about the "buffoon" but couldn't make out anything else. The door squeaked open and she stopped, probably looking at him with her lustful gaze. The idea of it made Ed feel dirtier than he already was, and he wanted to cover himself up. To hide his body from her leering eyes. Instead, he hid his face against the cement, in the crook of his automail shoulder, eyes still closed tightly, brow furrowed and teeth clenched.

"Good day to you, my little alchemy bitch." Her voice was close to Ed's ear. He flinched. Her fingernails tickled his back, uncomfortably, tracing the cuts and wounds lightly. "You have such a beautiful skin tone." Her voice was thick with desire, and Ed began to fear how he was going to handle the movement with his hand nailed to the cement.

He whimpered.

Only she was able to do that to him. No matter how many times he tried to quench the sound, she somehow always got it out of him. Perhaps she was just that disgusting.

Her hand followed the path down the middle of his back, scratching his spine as she did so, tracing all the way until she was too low for comfort. Somehow, as disgusting as it was to have the wannabe feel him up, Karly was able to put a sickening pit right at the bottom of his stomach. Every time.

She caressed his butt much in the same way the fake had done so, yet her touch was far more grotesque, and ugly and sickening. Again, that seemed to be the best way to describe her and her wandering fingers. The moment she spoke, Ed's body reacted, shivering and trembling so much that it was another thing that affected his breathing. He could hear how it came in spurts. How his voice shook just because it was _her._ How Ed _loathed_ this woman!

"Oh, I just love seeing my little Eddy like this," came her silky voice. Ed dug his face deeper into the crook of his. _Block it out, Ed. Block it out. There's nothing else you can do._ He hissed when he felt a slice down his back with something sharp and pointy and painful. "Your blood really makes the whole experience that much more thrilling. It's just so... metallic. It shimmers in this low lighting. Absolutely glorious." Giggling like a little girl, Karly pinched the slit she'd made, enjoying the pain it brought Ed.

"Out of everyone, playing with you is the most fun! Hearing those little squeaks out of you really get me feeling so... wet and excited!" She moaned the words, "Unfortunately, I have to wait for that buffoon to get here before I can play with you a little more. I promised him, you see." She giggled again, sliding her fingers up his back and into his hair. "You could really use a bath, you know? Maybe that's what we'll have Macabé do when he comes down. We'll have him draw a bath for you. There's plenty we could do in there," She pulled Ed's head back, pulling roughly against his scalp, callously scraping his forehead against the cement. Ed could hear the smile on her lips, "hm, if you catch my drift."

Briefly, Ed peaked open his eyes, hoping that the eye drops didn't work, but he was met with a blurry, sensitive sight. The dim light above them made his eyes ache. For a split second he saw the blurry blob of Karly looking at him from above, but nothing more clear than that before he had to close his eyes again.

 _Please, just don't let it drag on. Please!_ Ed begged, feeling his tremendously sore lips wobble for the umteenth time that day. How his body found the ability to continuously create tears when he was so dehydrated was beyond his comprehension. Sure, if he had the energy to _really_ think about it, Ed might have been able to come up with a scientific conclusion, but right then, he just didn't care.

"Geez, where is that idiot?" Karly muttered, her impatience oozing off her like raspberry jam being spread on a piece of toast. She crouched near Ed, petting him, caressing his face like he was her possession. Her fingers found his chin, twisting and tilting his head before her lips met his. Ed immediately moved away, pain registering from the hard press. Her fingers never left him.

"Be a good boy, Eddy. If you are, we'll be gentle. Don't you worry." Ed never saw what she looked like (his eyes so sensitive to light) but he could feel her proximity. She was close. So close.

Ed smashed his head into hers, causing her to lose her balance, pulling hair from his skull as she fell back. He cried out in agony as the movement forced pressure on his hand, tugging at the needles, pulling a few from their cement prison.

Karly growled, angrily.

"Why you obnoxious little whore!" Raging, Ed heard her heels clack as she stood, then grunted loudly, almost hissing, when he felt a hard kick against his hip. Before another round of beatings could continue, thumping from the upstairs caught both their attention; though Ed's only for a moment. He stopped caring as soon as he heard Karly's mutterings about 'that idiotic buffoon making trouble again' and slamming the door after her.

Man, he'd really done it that time. Now that he had time to think about it, Ed wasn't sure what the hell he was thinking, slamming his head into hers. What was he expecting to happen? Her to be knocked unconscious? Being totally honest with himself, yes. That's exactly what he'd expected and hoped would happen. He had thought that with her passed out, and no sign of Macabé, he could wiggle himself out of his tight restraints and make a break for it. Obviously, that plan had failed, miserably. Now Karly was surely going to rag on him and have her and Macabé do so much worse than they originally intended. But this time, Ed was going to fight back! He would escape this horrible place or die trying!

Mentally preparing himself for the worst as he heard footsteps, Ed waited until the door was open before he spoke.

"Stay the hell away from me or I _swear_ I won't hesitate to hurt you! I will bring you down to this hell right along with me!" His voice shook with rage and exhaustion, hardly noticing the gasp above his head.

" _Fullmetal!?_ " Came the deep, baritone voice that Ed hadn't heard in so long. Ed froze, gasping; peeking his head up from the cement floor, desperately trying to open his eyes and _see_ who was above him. It was far too good to be true, that the Colonel would just pop in right when Ed finally decided to die. What were the chances? Unfortunately, Ed couldn't keep his eyes open, and he shut them, feeling entirely too weak and exhausted. His head hit the floor. _This must be an illusion. Really must be losing it now. To be seeing_ and _hearing Colonel Bastard…_ He laughed quietly to himself at his stupidity.

Ed could feel the figure getting closer to him, probably sitting on their heels to mess with his face. He consciously tried to back away, once more wishing he would just die before he could be tortured again. The restraints, and the pain, kept him from making any progress.

"Ed?" The baritone voice spoke again. Questioning.

Hesitating a moment longer, hardly daring to believe, Ed's voice finally cracked, "C-Colonel?"

* * *

Alphonse Elric was super impatient. His foot tapped loudly against the concrete ground, causing the passersby to glare at him, or veer around him. Al didn't care. Their only lead to finding his brother was becoming colder the longer he waited, and Alphonse couldn't stand it.

"Hurry up, Colonel! We haven't got all day!" That was the continual mutterings that he couldn't help but to quip every so often. It was certainly unusual for the younger Elric to be so impatient, but with the life of his older brother on the line, Alphonse figured it was okay to be this annoyed. To him, the urgency of finding his brother was the ultimate need. Nothing else was more important.

Alphonse turned about, looking both directions of the street in hopes of spotting the Colonel. No such luck.

"Geez, Colonel. _Hurry_!" He paced, wishing he had the cenzs to call the military line once more. It was another four minutes before Alphonse noticed the woman he'd received money from earlier, waving him down to her little corner in an alleyway.

"Come here," she whispered, "quickly." The woman glanced behind her, as if making sure she'd not been followed. As soon as she saw Alphonse coming her way, she disappeared behind the wall once more.

"What's going on?" Al asked when he turned the corner. She immediately shushed him.

"Shh, not so loudly!" The woman checked around the corner once more before sighing and leaning against the wall.

"Why'd you wave me down? What do you want? Do you have any information on my brother?" His questions were said quickly, leaving no room for interruption. The woman opened her eyes slowly, squinting at Alphonse. She took another breath.

"Follow me." She said, walking down the short alleyway and onto another street. Alphonse followed, now suspicious of who the woman was.

"Where are we going?" Al asked. He received no response. They continued their walk in silence, the woman checking her surroundings every few minutes. When they reached their destination, it was near a cul de sac. Two people, a man and a woman, were speaking rapidly to each other. The woman looked angry, while the man looked almost, well, amused is the best word Alphonse could describe his expression.

Alphonse looked at the two closer. Something seemed familiar about the man. A red coat hung over his shoulders, and suddenly, Alphonse knew just who it was. Well, sort of.

"You're the brother of the Fullmetal Alchemist, right?" The woman spoke up, her voice still so soft in lieu of the people they were watching. He nodded. The woman nodded her head to his brother-look-alike, "that's not him," she stated so precisely. Alphonse slowly looked towards the kid who was conversing seriously with the distressed woman.

"I know," he said.

"If your brother has been taken by that guy, then I pray he's still alive." Alphonse whipped his head in her direction, seeing the seriousness in her saddened gaze.

"What do you mean?"

"That guy… he's got blackmail on every person in this neighborhood. If you're hoping to get them to talk, they won't. They've got too many precious things that they have to protect."

"What do you mean!" Alphonse demanded, "what kinds of things do they have to protect?" He was terrified that he already knew the answer. His blonde guide just stared at him with blank eyes.

"Just be careful whom you trust your information from. It could get you in trouble." She turned about, intending to leave without anything else to say,

"Wait! Who are you?" Al whispered, urgently, trying not to gain any unnecessary attention. The woman stopped, her back to him, only slightly turning her head

"Just some woman who wants to see that bastard pay." She then turned about and quickly walked away, leaving Alphonse to stare after her a moment before turning towards the arguing duo. He was too far away to hear what they were saying, but that didn't dissuade him from watching them intently. If his brother was really with this… imposter, (what else was he supposed to call the kid?) then Alphonse needed to find him quickly! Especially with that kind of warning.

So, Alphonse spent the better part of the afternoon following his brother-not-his-brother, noticing that the kid stayed in the shadows as much as possible. Especially when he noticed the military men scattered about. Guiltily, Alphonse didn't stop to inform Mustang and his team just where he was and hoped that they would find him stalking the kid. Instead, he ended up following the kid himself the entire time. The kid was good, avoiding the spotlight, giving Alphonse no time to get some help.

After several hours of watching his brother-not-his-brother, Alphonse followed the kid right back to where they had started. In the cul de sac. That was confusing. If they were just coming back to the cul de sac, why strut around town chatting amicably with other citizens? Unless the woman was right and he really did have blackmail on everyone. That was when he heard his brother-not-his-brother and another man chatting, the man becoming more aggressive as they went.

"...you can't just-!" Came a loud cry. Alphonse crept a little closer.

"I hear that your daughter likes to play down by the creek. I hope nothing happens to her. It would be _such_ a shame." The boy with the long, golden blonde braid and red coat carefully watched the man shake with rage, a dangerous smile gracing his lips.

"How dare you," The man growled, eyes slit, glaring.

"I don't know what you're talking about. It's just me, the Fullmetal Alchemist, doing his duty as a military officer, to make sure the citizens of Amestris are healthy and well." At this time, another man came upon them, entering the conversation.

"It's no use trying to convince them, Fullmetal. Sometimes you just have to use force." The man gave a fake smile towards the seeming blackmailed father, "You might want to back away before someone gets hurt, hm?" The new guy smiled, casually flipping a knife between his fingers next to his face. Alphonse could see the father figure grinding his teeth, and felt a tug against his soul. What could Alphonse do to help this man? If anything, find out more about this pretentious Fullmetal Alchemist.

Alphonse watched the exchange carefully, taking note that the father figure walked angrily into a house right on that very cul de sac, before his attention turned back to the duo.

"Don't worry, Fullmetal. In time, they'll learn to respect and fear you." The man clapped a hand on the shorter boy's shoulder jovially.

"Yeah… they better." Was his reply, staring after the father. Alphonse curled his fists, anger shaking his soul. What right did they have to impersonate his brother! Even going so far as to presume that the people would believe him? It was so messed up.

So blind with rage was he, that when Alphonse began paying attention on the duo, the imposter was headed back to a house at the end of the cul de sac, while the other man was walking towards Alphonse.

Well, no time like the present to get answers, right? Alphonse stepped out of his hiding spot, positioning himself directly in front of the guy, trying to be as intimidating as he could be. The man, however, was unimpressed.

"Ah, you must be Alphonse, the brother of the Fullmetal Alchemist."

"Where's my brother." Alphonse demanded, in no mood for games. The guy only smiled, showing his white teeth.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't give me that crap! I heard you talking back there!"

"Ah, you must mean the _new_ Fullmetal Alchemist. He's a sweet kid. Delusional, but sweet. No matter. I get to do what I want with _him_. That's what counts."

"What do you mean? Who's this 'new Fullmetal alchemist?' and what is it you get to do?" Alphonse used his fingers to use quotations marks when mentioning his brother-not-his-brother. The idea that someone was out there, pretending to be his brother, made Alphonse _mad._ What did the impersonator think he was doing? Did he realize he could go to prison for impersonating a military official? What kind of idiot does that? The guy laughed at Alphonse. Boisterously.

"You poor kid, if you're really a kid. They say you're younger than the Fullmetal Alchemist. Is that really true?" He raised both eyebrows, curious, lighting a cigarette as he did so.

"That's got nothing to do with it. What have you done to my brother?"

"Me? Why do you presume I've done anything to him? You saw him just a few minutes ago."

" _That's not my brother!_ " Alphonse growled, fed up with the games the man was playing, "what did you do to my brother!" He took a step, fists ready to punch, "if you tell me, _maybe_ I'll let you stay conscious while I take you into custody."

"Take me into custody?" The man laughed again, "that's good kid. You've got no grounds to take me into custody." The man walked forward and side-stepped Alphonse, patting his armor as he did so, then took another large puff of his cigarette, "besides, I could sue you for harassment and assault. I wouldn't want that on my plate if I were your age."

Alphonse listened patiently, fists clenched. This man was seriously underestimating him. Even if his body couldn't feel rage, his soul did. The very act of his soul crying in rage exhumed off of his rental, and Alphonse quickly turned towards the retreating back of the man, his casual stance just as irritating as everything else of the day.

"Oh yeah?" He challenged, giving the guy no chance for reply. Stepping behind him, Alphonse quickly reached around the man's neck before twisting and knocking the guy unconscious. The man fell to the ground, cigarette falling out of his mouth.

Alphonse glanced around the neighborhood, looking to see if anyone saw what he'd done. Then, without hesitation, he picked up the man's floppy form, holding him bridal style, immediately looking for Colonel Mustang and his men.

It was another ten minutes before Alphonse came into contact with the man himself, shouting his name, ignoring citizens on the street who had to jump out of the way or risk being bulldozed over.

"Colonel Mustang!" Alphonse repeated. He skid to a stop in front of the curious, and irritated expression of his brother's commander.

"Where the hell have you been, Alphonse? We've been looking for you!" Hawkeye, standing on his left, watched the exchange, looking with interest at the form in Alphonse's arms.

"Sorry, Colonel! It's just…!" Alphonse held out the man in his arms for emphasis at what he was having trouble explaining.

* * *

Alphonse was nowhere to be found.

Mustang turned about, looking everywhere, thinking he must have missed the suit of armor; but no, Alphonse wasn't there.

"Dammit," he muttered, "where the hell could he have disappeared to?"

"Maybe he found a lead?" Hawkeye suggested.

"Yeah. Maybe." Mustang had thought that Alphonse was the more sane of the Elric brothers, but perhaps he'd misjudged the boy's character. This was definitely an Edward thing to do. Leave him hanging just when they knew he'd be there. What, did the kid think that because he was on his way, that everything would be fine? Dammit all, it wasn't fine!

They searched and searched for hours, finding no trace of the suit of armor, all the while hoping to find clues about the _other_ Elric brother and came up with nothing. Absolutely ridiculous! How hard could it be to find an embodiment so huge? Not to mention loud.

"Dammit all, the Elric brothers really just _love_ to press my buttons, don't they." He muttered, forgetting that his lieutenant was right behind him.

"Sir," Hawkeye said, her voice void of harsh emotion and, dare he think it, some amusement. How the hell she could be amused at a time like this was beyond Mustang.

"What!" He brashed, not really looking her way.

"Why don't we take a break, get some lunch at one of the sushi bars. Maybe Alphonse will come back and we can find out what happened." Mustang squinted his eyes and glared at the neighborhood, grunting in reply to Hawkeye.

Except Hawkeye was wrong. Mustang grumpily chewed his third roll of sushi, his back towards the stand, watching the crowd. Hawkeye had long since stopped eating, preferring to listen to the conversations of the customers and passersby.

An hours passed by.

Then two.

Then Mustang grumpily slammed his money on the counter to pay for the last onigiri he wanted to eat before standing, feeling far to anxious to listen to his Lieutenant any longer.

 _Dammit all, where could that kid have gone?_ He briskly walked out onto the four corners, seeing the phone booth which Alphonse must have called him from. _Time to find_ another _missing Elric brother. Heaven forbid they make it too easy. Damn!_ If anything happened to Alphonse too… Mustang wasn't sure he'd be able to forgive himself. Especially if they found Ed. He wasn't sure he could take the harsh disappointment and mistrust in his subordinates eyes if that happened.

"Those boys will be the death of me, I swear it." He muttered, gloom and doom possessing his aura the more he thought about it.

"I don't think nows the time to start getting depressed." Hawkeye said, keeping watching on the crowd before her, "sir."

Mustang sighed. Of course Hawkeye was right. Unlike earlier. Yup. He wasn't gonna let her live that down. Rarely was she wrong, and he wanted to glorify in his triumph while he could. Except, he'd save that for when they found the Elric brothers.

"I know. This case is just going nowhere fast. I don't like it. _Especially_ if something happened to Alphonse as well."

"I feel the same way, but we can't lose our heads until we've done _everything_ we possibly can for those boys. After all, they've been through enough. They deserve that much loyalty from us."

Mustang rubbed his face as they walked. "You're right. As you almost always are." Yeah… he couldn't wait.

"What do you mean 'almost'?"

"Colonel Mustang!" Came a cry before Mustang could say anything further. They turned to their left in surprise (half relief for Mustang for more than one reason) to see Alphonse running towards them, a form in their hands. At first, Mustang felt a jolt in his heart, thinking Alphonse had actually found Fullmetal, but was savagely disappointed to see that the unconscious form in his arms was far too adult and brown headed to be Edward Elric.

"Where the hell have you been, Alphonse? We've been looking for you!"

"Sorry, Colonel! It's just…!" Both Mustang and Hawkeye blinked in surprise when Alphonse thrust the unconscious man towards them.

A short time later found Mustang, Hawkeye, Alphonse, the unconscious man, and Madame Christmas all curled against a table in the far corner of Madame Christmas's brothel. They had been in too much of a hurry to contact the rest of his men, but by the sounds of Alphonse's story, they would definitely be updating them on what was to come next.

"You're telling me that you don't even _know_ if your brother is alive?" Mustang asked, trying to clear the fog in his brain, "and that this man may be an accomplice or even the man behind Fullmetal's kidnapping, but you're not sure?"

"Yeah..." Alphonse replied, dejected. His whole body hunched over, signally to the other's just how depressed he really felt.

"That woman did say not to trust any information you get from anyone. Which can include her. She may have hinted at his inevitable death, but that doesn't mean that he's actually been murdered." Hawkeye, ever the rational woman, stated. No tears reached her eyes, but a sharp edge to them was clearly evident to anyone who looked closely.

"R-Right," Alphonse nodded with a tiny ounce of hope.

"Good grief, this case continues to get more disturbing as we go." Mustang said, a finger massaging his temple, resting an elbow against his crossed legs.

"Well my dears, I believe that you've already missed your meeting time with the others on your team. I'm sure they're worried about you. So, why don't you go on home, make plans for the rescue tomorrow, and get some rest." Madame Christmas smiled, easing the strain in the atmosphere, "you'll need it." She began shooing them towards the exit. Alphonse picked up the unconscious man (he had begun to wake up while they were talking, but Madame Christmas had fed him a sleeping pill and he went right back to sleep) before they all left.

Sure enough, the rest of Mustang's team had met up, shouting angrily at them until Mustang was able to convince them to calm down and return to headquarters. There, Alphonse shared his story once again. Everyone stared at the ground, or fiddled their fingers. Havoc pulled out a cigarette, though keeping it unlit, simply wanting the comfort it brought.

"And you're _sure_ that your brother is in that house?" Feury wondered.

"No… I'm not." Alphonse surprised himself with that answer, "but we don't have any other idea's. Besides, how could he not be there when this kid thinks he's my brother?" The more Alphonse thought about it, the more rational it became. If there was someone trying to _be_ his brother, then the best way to impersonate them and complete their roll, would be to take the actual person out of the equation.

"I agree." Breda said, disturbed at the idea they were contemplating, "we might not have any evidence yet, but if there's even a chance that the major is there, I'm willing to risk my job for him."

"Same goes for me," Falman declared.

"And me!" Havoc smiled, the cigarette lifting as his teeth moved. Soon everyone had made their peace.

"I don't know anything about losing our jobs over this. Nor is it something I plan on allowing to happen. Even if this lead ends up being a flop, we'll find others. Whoever has kidnapped Edward cannot keep calm for that long. We _will_ find the last member of our team." Mustang looked at his team with pride, all the while his heart pumped, fearing what would happen if this lead really _was_ a flop. If they were really following some delusional kid who wanted to be just like the famed hero of the people but was no more of a threat then that.

If it weren't for the warning given to Alphonse, not to mention the weird behavior of their unconscious captive, Mustang more than likely would have tried to search elsewhere.

"Madame Christmas had the right idea, though. It's late, and we've all been on the move since earlier this morning. Head on home everyone, and we'll gather together in the morning. From their, we will have Alphonse lead us to this cul de sac where he found the strange man who seemed to be in cahoots with this impersonator, and then, we'll search his home."

"Wait, wait, wait. We don't have a search warrant. How are we supposed to search his house?" Falman asked the logical question. Definitely valid considering the circumstances.

"Well, I don't see why we can't make friends with our across the way neighbors. Technically, we're not meant to be on military business. This is a top secret mission which could get us all in trouble. So if we happen to make nice with the owners of the home, get ourselves invited in, we should be able to casually search the area. If they assault any of us while inside, you have the authority to arrest and detain them." Everyone smiled, glancing at one another. This is what they were talking about!

"Wh-what should I do?" Alphonse asked, feeling extremely out of place. Mustang stared at him for a moment.

"For now, just stay on the sidelines. Make sure no one escapes if a fight happens to break through." In all actuality, Mustang wanted to tell the younger Elric brother to stay away. Keep out of harm's way, and let the grown ups do their job. Even though Alphonse was just as talented and useful as his brother, Edward was still taken and who knew what else done to him.

At his home, Mustang splashed water on his face, trying to rid himself of the bags that began to appear under his eyes. He was exhausted, yet sleep evaded him. All that night he'd been tossing and turning, thinking about Fullmetal. He could feel that they were close. _So close._

Right then and there, Mustang swore that he would make sure that Fullmetal would make it back alive. Otherwise, he'd have to pile more guilt on top of an already overflowing pit.

That morning Mustang awoke with a growing headache and a sickening feeling in his stomach. The one where you know something is wrong yet you're not quite sure. The one where you almost wanted to throw up, even though you knew you weren't sick. The feeling he felt after the first time he had to burn someone to a crisp. Smell their cooked flesh in the air. Yeah, that day was definitely not starting how he'd hoped it would. Even though the sky was cloudy with a seventeen percent chance of rain.

The only upside was that there was a chance they'd finally find Fullmetal. Hopefully he'd be only a little beat up. After all… today was the sixth day he'd been missing. Six days was a lot. Contrary to popular belief, if someone wanted to hurt you, or even kill you, six days was more than enough time. Mustang prayed that this wasn't one of those cases. But he knew… something was bound to go wrong today. Because every time he felt the way he did when he woke up, something wrong _always_ happened.

Mustang dreaded those days.

He smoothly put on his black greatcoat, tugged on his black shoes, the promptly shut and locked his house. Normally, he enjoyed going undercover, but today was not one of those days. If he had had the proper backup, and military forces, then _maybe_ he'd enjoy it. Even with the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Not to mention the man they'd placed into custody. If he wasn't a part of anything serious, things could get rough for Alphonse. Of course, he'd have Mustang and his team as backup, but there was only so much he could do to help the kid.

They met up at Madame Christmas's place, as the building was significantly closer to the neighborhood Alphonse had seen.

"Alright!" He barked, "I don't want any casualties today, so keep your guard up. There's not many of us, so if their numbers are higher, let me and Major Armstrong handle it." His team members nodded obediently. Major Armstrong had joined their forces, his determined face fiercer than anything he wore in a long while. Many people were protective of the Elric brothers. Even a few officers who were not prepared for combat wanted to join up.

"Those of you who are staying farther away from the fight, be on the ready. We hope to find Fullmetal today. Regardless of whether or not he looks hurt, he will need to be taken to the hospital in central for a checkup." Nods were seen and Mustang felt as satisfied as he possibly could.

"Okay, let's head out!" They made their way to the cars, taking several to accommodate everyone (including Alphonse's armor, Edward, and any person they had to take into custody.) Mustang smirked as he looked in his rearview mirror. They made quite a lineup. They'd definitely have to park creatively. He pulled a walkie-talkie out that he'd given everyone to communicate this.

"Aye-aye captain!"

"Gotcha!"

"Will do, sir!" Came the many replies. Fullmetal was so damn lucky he had so many people who cared about his short self. Now, if they could just get back to their routine of banter, Mustang would feel better. Already, he was dreaming up what he would say to the kid to tease him about his captivity. Oh, it would be so great to watch his face! The mini alchemist was easily ruffled, and Mustang found he really enjoyed teasing him.

Hopefully he was okay.

Mustang frowned. His insides twisted when he thought of his subordinate. If anything had happened to him… well… Mustang wasn't actually sure what he would do. Burning people to a crisp would be ill received, especially since they needed to detain the criminals and take them in for questioning. Perhaps he would beat them up. Maybe break their nose. Perhaps make them lose a tooth or two. That would be satisfying. Maybe he'd do that even if Fullmetal wasn't seriously injured. Give them that pain as payback for not even calling in with a ransom note and for all the pain they'd caused his team for the past six days. His fingers were turning white from squeezing the steering wheel too tightly.

"Sir," Hawkeye said, staring pointedly at Mustang's hands. He loosened his grip, breathing deeply. No good getting himself riled up before they even knew if Edward was taken by these people.

They soon made it to their destination. Mustang had parked a few blocks away and stepped out into the sunlight, making sure to take his walkie-talkie with him to inform the driver in charge of pulling up the car for Edward.

His entire team stepped up next to him, as well as Alex Armstrong.

"I think you should let me do the talking, sir." Hawkeye said, watching him with resolute eyes. Mustang stared at her, not sure how he felt about sending his queen onto the front lines of battle. Because that would essentially be what he was doing if he said yes. Though, sending a woman to talk peace to the men, it could work. Get her on the inside.

"Alright. You go ahead and take lead, we'll follow behind you at a distance. If there is any sign that they are going to attack, signal us by scratching the base of your neck."

"Understood," She said, saluting him. He returned the salute, then they followed Hawkeye until they came upon the cul de sac.

"Which house was it, Alphonse?" He asked, looking at the distance between each house. Once it came to the end, the two end houses were close together, though on the other end, they were farther apart, leaving plenty of room between the lawn and the next house for at least another small house to join them. Almost as if both houses were built to have a farm at one point.

Alphonse pointed to the end, "it's the house on the right, that's really close to the other lone house." Hawkeye nodded, keeping vigilant watch on her target. She made sure that her hidden guns were unlocked and ready to go, hiding them in her own, feminine coat, its length reaching her knees.

Mustang's heart pounded, watching intently, hand poised in the ready position, ready for fire. If anything were to happen to her, he probably _would_ end up burning someone to a crisp. He couldn't even imagine life without her. She was too precious to him. So, he made sure he had her back, just as she had his.

It was silly, in a way, to be so afraid for her life. They didn't even know if they had the correct lead. Didn't have solid proof that this imposter had actually taken Edward. He squinted his eyes as Hawkeye knocked on the door. They damn well _better_ have his subordinate. He was tired of playing hide-and-seek.

He watched as the door was open and a flamboyant man began speaking with Hawkeye. His shirt looked similar to that of what a pirate would wear, but its color ran shy of being considered pink. Its salmon taste clashed with the tan jeans he wore, not to mention his _hair._ Mustang thanked his lucky stars he had better taste than that bugger. The man touched Hawkeye's arm, gesturing for her to enter his house. Jealousy pinged his heart, and Mustang immediately had the desire to cause the man's eyes to suddenly burst into flames.

Then, Alphonse gasped as they all saw Hawkeye reach up and scratch the base of her neck as the man began pulling her into the house. Mustang sprung into action, immediately bolting towards the house, feeling his heart beat faster than what was normal for someone running so hard. When he reached the door, he kicked it open, feeling far more satisfied with breaking the lock than he should have.

The scene before him made anger thrash through his veins. Hawkeye's coat lay on the floor in a nearby corner of the room, the shoulder of her shirt ripped, and blood seeping out from the scratch made there. Her near perfect hair was slightly messy as she held the man flat on the ground, foot on his back, roughly holding his arm up, stretching the muscles there.

" _Where is he!_ " She growled out in a half yell, " _tell me!"_

"I… I don't know! I don't know who you're meaning!" Hawkeye pulled harder against his strained arm.

"I wouldn't lie if I were you." She growled. The man gasped as he strained his head to stare at the foreign men entering the living room. The wooden panels gave Mustang the creeps, as he realized they held scandalous posters of women and men, in various positions and conditions. Some were photographs that he couldn't quite see, and felt certain he wouldn't really _want_ to see. Major Armstrong, Havoc, Falman, and Breda all popped in behind him, staring at the disparaging sight before them, dismayed at its hideous nature.

"I love me some good, large breasted women, but this is rather much." Havoc commented, his gun never faltering from its defensive position.

"Let's have a look around, make sure there aren't any others hiding." Mustang said, ignoring Havoc. He could've rolled his eyes had the scene not been so tense. The men moved out, and Mustang helped handcuff Hawkeye, trusting that her reasonings were valid. They set the man on one of the available couches, ignoring the glares he sent their way.

They moved towards the stairs that sat directly in front of the door, far enough away from prying ears. He placed a hand on Hawkeye's arm, just below the cut, staring into her eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked, not wanting her to feel the need to go into the defensive herself. She looked back at him, searching his eyes. For what, Mustang wasn't sure, but she must have found it.

"Yes sir." She gave a slight nod, and Mustang could've _sworn_ he saw the teensiest smile on her lips before she turned away, starting up the stairs, "thank you for asking."

Satisfied, Mustang allowed her to head up the stairs while he went and searched the other rooms. Nothing seemed out of place. Apart from the house being dark from the wooden walls, and trash found on the floor, it seemed like a normal home (discounting the living room, that was just disgusting.) No trace of even a hidden basement was found. The home was purely a two level home.

His head snapped when he heard the man talking quietly, as if there was someone else in the room. He followed the path, wondering just what he could have said, but when he came into the living room, the man was silent. Though his eyes watched Mustang, sparkling as if they knew a secret.

"What did you do!" Mustang demanded, "who did you speak to?" The man laughed at him.

"He's coming. You're going to be so amazed! Also, probably dead. You shouldn't be here. He won't be happy that you're here." The man spoke as if he were crazy, his voice gleeful. Mustang squinted his eyes at the detained man before taking a leap and turning towards the front door. He thrust it open as Armstrong and Havoc came from their respective places.

"Something the matter, boss?" Havoc stepped up behind Mustang as Mustang left the house, standing on the open porch.

"That man in there called someone, or some _ones_ , for backup."

"How could-!" Havoc began, but both men became distracted as someone popped out of the house next to them.

Mustang could have cried in relief if he hadn't been first made aware of the imposter. Out of the house next to them came Edward Elric's look-a-like. The kid who thought he could become Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. Mustang grit his teeth, feeling the itch to snap. Instead, he calmly stepped off the porch, meeting the impersonator halfway.

"So! You finally found my get-away, Colonel Bastard!" The kid smiled, his teeth looking almost _too_ white for whom he was trying to be.

"Yeah. Looks like I did." Mustang glanced at the other house, "just what were you doing in there, Fullmetal?" He played along, as if he actually believed the kid. Maybe he could get more information out of the kid. Was Fullmetal in that house? Hope surged his heart. Were they close?

"Oh you know, just doing a lot of research. I felt the need to take time off to really concentrate on my studies. Alchemy and all that." The imposter continued his smile, his golden eyes sickeningly close to the same color as Edward's. It made Mustang sick.

"Research on Alchemy? You? The prodigy?"

"I know, right?" The kid laughed, "you wouldn't think I'd need to learn more, but I'm an alchemist. It's what I crave!" Mustang would give him that. Edward certainly craved the alchemy books. But most definitely for different reasons than this kid presumably craved them.

"Well, why don't we take a sit down in that _tiny_ house of yours and chat about your research."

"Don't call me short!" The kid griped. Mustang blinked in surprise, slightly impressed that he knew just how much Ed hated being called short, let alone noticing the banter in Mustang's words. Overall, he felt disturbed. How had the kid come to learn that about his subordinate?

"Besides, I don't want you to come in yet. I'm working on something."

"Working on something? Like what?"

"None of your business, bastard," The imposter growled. Mustang noted with curiosity that the arm that currently held a fist up at him was Edwards flesh arm. Even the real Fullmetal would have used that hand. How much did this kid know?

"Fullmetal, if you've got something to hide, then it's something I must know about." Mustang started walking forward, hardly noticing Armstrong and Havoc trailing a little ways behind him. The imposter, suddenly growing a little frantic, pushed on Mustang's chest, trying to stop him. Alphonse and Feury stood by the road, keeping vigilant watch on what was happening. Mustang had purposely had them stay farther away, knowing Alphonse would be able to protect Fuery (who wasn't as skilled in combat) as well as stop anyone who tried to leave.

"You can't!" Cried the increasingly angry imposter.

"Why not? What makes you think you can stop your superior officer, Fullmetal?" Mustang stopped, giving his best glare. The imposter (who was surprisingly almost as short as Edward) glared up at him, "You're out of line, Fullmetal." He growled.

"You see, I'm not actually as ignorant as you seem to think I am. Either you're Fullmetal, or you're keeping him detained in that house, right there." He nodded towards the house, deciding to take a shot at what he hoped was true. He stared at the surprised and angry face of the imposter, who, he was satisfied to see, was beginning to sweat. Then suddenly, things jumped into action.

The imposter jumped back, surprising Mustang by clapping his hands together and slamming his hands to the ground, creating a large, dirt wall that stretched in front of them. Enough so to make it hard to go around and towards the house.

"Let _me_ take care of this!" Armstrong growled, activating the transmutation circles on the metal which clung to his hands, then smashed a fist into the, effectively destroying a massive hole. On the other side, Alphonse had run up and was effectively in combat with the imposter.

"Leave the boy to Alphonse! Let's go and find Fullmetal!" Mustang ordered, rushing with Havoc and Armstrong towards the other house. He barely noticed with a passing glance behind him that Hawkeye, Falman, and Breda had rushed out of the other house quickly once things started happening outside. All Mustang could think was _please let Fullmetal be here!_

They rushed into the home, surprised to find the open concept inviting. The atmosphere was completely different to that of the other home. Though this one looked to be a two story house, in actuality, the second floor was more of a loft area, leaving the space open to look over the living room. The color was bland, mixing a creme white with the wooden pillars surrounding the house. There was a sliding door farther in the back, which they soon found to be the kitchen, which was, surprisingly, spotless. No pictures hung on the walls in this house. Mustang wasn't sure how the imposter came to possess both homes, but he was definitely going to have to look into it.

"Uh boss!," Havoc yelled from his portion of the house, a shriek was heard directly after, "you may want to come see this." Mustang quickly left the kitchen to find Havoc holding steadfast to a bedraggled woman, her lithe form leaving little to the imagination; though Mustang wouldn't be surprised if she could be considered Havoc's type. He glanced behind them to find an opened door which led to a coat closet. Inside, a trap door was left open, presenting dropped steps to the bottom. Mustang glanced farther down, unable to stop the grimace towards the smell. He knew that smell, and it filled him with dread. What would they find down there?

"Have you been down there, Havoc?"

"Not yet. This woman stopped me before I could get too far."

"Well then, let's check it out." Mustang said, preparing himself for the inevitable rush of rank smell. Havoc nodded, handcuffing the woman before knocking her unconscious. Mustang rose an eyebrow.

"What?" Havoc said innocently, shrugging. Mustang said nothing, making his way down the steps. The stairwell was small, and if Mustang had claustrophobia, this definitely would not have helped his case. When he opened the door, Havoc instantly made a noise.

"Oh, that smell is horrible. What _is_ that?" He held an arm to his nose, face scrunched up in disgust. The headache and sick feeling Mustang had been feeling all morning increased as he walked into the basement. As soon as the door opened, they came upon a corridor filled with eight doors. Four on each side. The lighting was dim, but enough of them to not have to strain your eyes to see. Mustang looked to his right, stepping up to the door, opening it slowly. What he saw angered him. There, a young girl (couldn't be older than ten) lay in tattered clothing; unconscious, dirty, and bloody on the cement floor.

"Holy shit!" Havoc exclaimed, rushing passed Mustang, dropping to his knees. He brought his head close to the girl's chest, listening for a heartbeat. Relief crossed his features, "she's alive, but her heartbeat is very weak. She needs to get to a hospital, and fast!" Havoc stared at Mustang gravely.

"Alright. You take the girl and get her out of here. Come back once you've gotten her to safety." Mustang glanced down the small hallway, "I can't decide if I actually want to find Fullmetal here."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Havoc lifted the girl bridle style, his face grim. She never regained consciousness. Watching Havoc struggle up the small staircase with the girl, Mustang turned back towards the hallway, afraid of what he would find. The next door he opened made him feel just as sick. A frightened dog growled in his direction, hovering in the corner, large tremors wracking its bloody and deformed body. He left the door open, hoping to entice the animal outside by allowing it to tread forward on its own terms. He continued down the hallway, opening the next door, finding a similar sight. Another bloodied dog, but this time, it had buddies that lay unmoving nearby. Mustang left the door open. He continued to the third door, feeling an increase in anger as he realized that each door held a creature. This one was no different. Again, some poor, tortured house animal either hissed or growled his way, hiding in the farthest corner as possible.

Good grief, Mustang prayed that Fullmetal wasn't here. That they'd been misinformed. That there was no chance in hell that his subordinate could have been taken by such creeps. The basement was horrible. Mustang couldn't believe that it could be filled with grotesque, nightmarish sights. Or rather, he was amazed that no one had reported the incidents.

In one of the rooms where no living animal resided, Mustang noticed that the walls seemed a little bit on the puffy side. He placed a hand against one, and realized that the rooms must have been soundproof. It was no wonder that people hadn't heard anything! Quickly, Mustang chose the next door on the other side of the hallway, starting from the end this time.

The second he opened the door, Mustang had no chance to react before a voice desperately cried into the air,

"Stay the hell away from me or I _swear_ I won't hesitate to hurt you! I will bring you down to this hell right along with me!" His sudden bout of relief turned into horror and Mustang couldn't help suck in his breath as he realized that the still conscious human being trapped on the floor was his subordinate. " _Fullmetal?"_

 _Son of a bitch._ The one time he hoped to be proven wrong, he wasn't. There, tethered to the ground like an animal to be slaughtered, was the naked form of Edward Elric. Mustang blinked, stunned and horrified, as he took in the boys state. Blood, both dried and new, caked his body from head to toe. Alchemic bars wrapped around his torso, legs, and flesh arm, and Mustang fought the urge to be sick when he saw small nails forced into his fingertips, most likely embedded into the cement.

 _Son of a bitch._ That seemed to be the catchphrase of the day. Fullmetal needed to get to a hospital quickly! He kneeled down towards Edward, ignoring the disgusting smell of decay and bodily extracts, trying to get a good look into the kid's eyes, hoping to make eye contact. When Edward had looked at him earlier, Mustang couldn't help but notice how dilated his pupils were. What if they had given him something he could overdose on? There was no way he was going to allow the kid to die when he had _just_ found him!

Edward tried to curl in on himself as Mustang got closer. His brow furrowed. That was unusual, and not in a good way.

"Ed," Mustang tried again, cautiously, hoping to gain the boy's trust. Ed shifted his head, showing pinched eyes, shut tightly.

"C-Colonel?"

* * *

 **YAY! Ed's finally been rescued! About time, eh? Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Pleeeease review! Those reviews helped give me the motivation to write this freaking long chapter and post it out as soon as possible. Seriously... 2 chapters worth in one xD (haha yeah, it's kinda exciting that it's that long. Even for me, the author! And did you know that it's entirely possible for a sewing needle to go right through your finger? Apply enough force and it can happen. A kid accidentally had one go through his finger from sewing class in my junior high school when I was in 7th grade. It was nuts!**

 **Also, if any of you have any requests as to what kinds of interactions you'd like to see between Edward and Alphonse, Mustang, and the team, let me know in the reviews or even PM me if you'd like! :D You, my readers, freaking rock!**

 **Ja'matte ne!**

 **(p.s. you know... I always think of these clever things to say and then once I start typing my authors note, I end up forgetting everything! xD)**


	11. Chapter 10

**Hey Everyone! I'm posting once again. YAY! Sorry for the crazy long wait. There was a crap ton of drama with my co-worker and then my grandma passed away 2 weeks ago. We just had her funeral yesterday. So life's been a bit stressful.. but now I've finally got the next chapter up. :D**

 **Thank you so much to RedCeleste, Attackoneverything, DarkFlameFantasy, Kas3y, YAJJ, Clingykawa, and Akarri for your reviews, and to everyone who favorited and and followed my story, It makes me smile every time I see one :D**

 **Just some advanced warnings: This chapter is not graphic in the same sense as my other chapters, but there is a crap ton of angst. As well as mentions of rape. Or... non-con as I've learned it's called. I'll try my best to give their reactions justice, but a lot of this is territory I've never been through myself. Don't hate me xD**

* * *

Alphonse watched from a distance, seeing Mustang frantically follow Lieutenant Hawkeye into the house. He waited anxiously, praying that this was the day they found his brother.

However, when Mustang abruptly opened the door of the house, Alphonse became confused and worried. Was Ed not there? Had they been thrown on an empty trail? What if they never found his brother? What if the look-a-like had _actually_ taken Ed's place and his brother was thrown in a river somewhere far out in the woods? What if he never saw Ed again? What would he do? How would he cope? Was it possible that their theory of their bodies being connected wrong? Was that why Alphonse was still alive?

 _No!_ Alphonse wouldn't think like that. He had to believe that his nii-san was still alive, waiting for Alphonse to rescue him. But dammit, waiting was hard! It was killing him to know if Ed was safe, and unharmed.

Movement from the other house had Alphonse's soul leap. Ed's look-a-like came sauntering out the door, looking for all like he had no care in the world. A moment later, Mustang stormed out the door of the other house. Soon after came Havoc, Hawkeye, and Armstrong, all watching Mustang and the imposter intently. Alphonse tensed, hearing the metal squeak as he positioned his armor, waiting for the most opportune moment to strike.

Then, just like turning the page of a book, things began to happen. The imposter jumped back, clapped his hands together and created a massive wall of dirt, separating him from everyone else. Instantly, Al took off running, ignoring the shouts of those behind him. The time for waiting was over. He couldn't care less what Mustang thought about his actions right then.

Alphonse reached the imposter right as the Armstrong burst a fist through the thick dirt, pellets of rock and clumps of dirt knocking into both him and the imposter.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, brother?" The imposter screeched as Alphonse took advantage of his hesitance from the rock and dirt clumps, grabbing his shoulders and thrusting each arm behind him. He struggled, kicking his feet and yelling out. At one point, he flipped himself over on top of Alphonse, causing them both to fall backwards. Alphonse fell with a thud, making an "oomph" sound more out of shock than anything else. The Edward look-a-like scrambled off Alphonse, trying to head towards the house he'd seen Mustang head towards. Alphonse lunged forward, grabbing his legs, causing him to fall flat. The look-alike then panicked when he saw Mustang's remaining team following him into the house.

"What are they doing?" He screeched again, "Brother, what are they doing? Why are they going over there? What's going on?" Wild, eerily golden eyes watched frantically, unable to go further as Alphonse had maneuvered him onto his feet, a hallowed hand holding tightly to his arms. He struggled against the hold. "Why won't you let me pass, brother!?"

Alphonse clenched a hollow, rubber fist, angry that this _kid_ kept calling him _brother_. As if they were _buddy buddy_. As if they were _blood_.

"A: My brother _never_ just calls me 'brother.' And B…" Alphonse roughly faced the imposter away from the houses, shoving him forward. The kid caught his footing before turning about, looking past Alphonse, as if ready to bolt once again. Waiting for a moment for the imposter to look up, Alphonse curled his hollow hand into a fist and punched the kid right in the nose, sending him flying backward, landing with an 'oomph'. "My brother would have known to dodge that!" It was a bit of lie. Alphonse had been able to catch his brother off guard before, but it was just _so_ satisfying to hit this punk who thought he could replace _his_ brother.

He walked intimidatingly towards the fallen imposter, who held his nose ever so graciously. Alphonse smiled internally to see the satisfying color of red flowing freely down the kid's face.

"Now, tell me. What have you done with my brother?"

"I already told you! That's me, Alphonse! What're you doing to your brother?"

"Don't give me that crap! I know you're not my brother!" The kid had the gall to look flabbergasted.

"How can you say that? That's so cruel, Brother!"

"Quit calling me that! I am _not_ your brother and you are _not_ mine. Now, tell me. I won't ask again. _Where did you take my brother!"_ Alphonse pulled the kid angrily up by the front of his shirt, trying to stare as intimidating as possible into the imposter's face, fed up with his games. Luckily, being a suit of armor had it's perks. His intimidation worked wonders. The kid glared at him with clenched teeth, before pointing towards the two houses.

"If you're talking about that kid who looks like me, you don't have to worry. I've taken care of him. Now that he's no longer a part of the picture, you and I can live our days in peace!" Alphonse glanced in horror towards the houses. The kids' finger was pointing to the house on the left, the home which Mustang and his crew had just entered.

"Wh… what do you mean you've taken care of him?" He never looked back at the imposter when asking this question.

"What do you think?" The kid scoffed, testing his nose, trying to stop the bleeding. His voice held contempt, and Alphonse felt far more angry than had the kid refused to speak.

"Well then, that sucks for you, doesn't it?" He said, turning back to look at the kid. The Edward-look-alike gave him a confused stare.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Alphonse didn't answer. Simply picked the kid up by his scruff and knocked him unconscious, dropping him to the ground.

"If you were really my brother, you would've known you could _never_ beat me in combat skills. You're just lucky I'm not the kinda guy who likes to kidnap and torture people." Alphonse heard his anguished rage shaking the armor, then stared at the unconscious teen for only a moment, before racing towards the house which Mustang presided.

The walk to the house left Alphonse in an odd state. Almost as if he were moving in slow motion. Seeing the interior, watching Havoc haul an unconscious little girl onto a couch, then fighting his way down the obvious hidden door - alchemically creating a larger space to pass through - into a dark, mildew ridden basement, left his soul feeling far more torn up than he'd imagined seeing something like this would do to him. Seeing tortured animals did little to help satiate his nervousness, but that didn't compare to his astonishment and pain when he came to the last door. That's when he saw Mustang hunched over his brother, and time seemed to stop all together.

There were times in Alphonse's life where he wished he could trade places with his brother. In the beginning, Alphonse had caught himself selfishly wishing that he and Ed had traded places. That Ed was the one who lost his body while Alphonse was the one who lost only an arm and a leg. However, as time went on, he found that he was substantially glad that _he_ had last his body and _not_ Edward. Thinking back on it, Alphonse fully believed that had their roles been switched, Ed would not have been able to handle this body in the same way Alphonse was able to. Nor did Alphonse think he would have been strong enough to do what Edward was doing. By joining the military, his brother had sold his soul (funny how they both ended up selling their souls to some source that could be considered practically of the same variety,) yet it was a burden they shared. And if they had switched places? Perhaps they wouldn't have made it so far.

Over time, he'd lost that sense of wanting to trade places. Alphonse couldn't remember when the last time was, nor what it had been about. Now, however, his soul quivered, physically shaking his armor with how distraught he'd become.

Now… he wished he could cry. Couldn't remember what the sensation felt like, but desperately wished he had that human emotion. The sight of Ed…

His brother…

His nii-chan….

It was far worse than any of them had feared. Al's soul wanted to burst. He wanted to go to sleep and wish that the sight before him did not exist.

It was all his fault.

If he had never gotten into that stupid fight with his brother, Edward would never have been kidnapped. Never have been tortured to the point of death. Never have had to deal with the aftermath. Never have had to deal with the fact that he would probably be scarred by this event for the rest of his life…

Why did such horrible things have to happen to his brother? Ed didn't deserve this! How could so much disaster happen within such a short space of time? What could they have done to find him sooner? It was all his fault!

"Alphonse!" Mustang's voice cut through his thoughts, and that was when he noticed Mustang, who had already thrown his coat over a bloody Edward, was trying his darndest to maneuver Ed into his arms, trying to ignore the fact that every move he made caused Ed to cry out; though upon closer inspection, Alphonse could see that Ed had passed out. Still… the whimpers and cries were enough to make him move. To get closer inside, Alphonse had slammed the door against the wall, hardly noticing the loud _smack_ it created, before quickly helping Mustang get Edward into his arms. It wasn't until afterward that Alphonse noticed the blood which assaulted his vision from every corner of the room. Most particularly, the chair.

Then, near the fireplace, Alphonse noticed a deceased animal strewn on the ground, it's body so mangled and torn that he wasn't quite sure what to make of the animal. A hard cry bubbled through his armor as he imagined the kinds of things that the twisted imposter had done to his brother. He was taken out of his thoughts by Mustang's wobbly call once more.

"Alphonse! Go check on Havoc and Armstrong, make sure they don't need any help."

"But...!"

"Don't question my authority, Alphonse! Go, now! And don't you dare look in those other rooms, got it? You don't want to see their horrors."

"Uh..." His concern was moot point.

Alphonse watched as Mustang's reddened eyes glazed over him, waiting for him to leave the room, before following behind. As they walked up the hidden doorway, sirens could be heard.

* * *

 _It hurt._

"Hur...! Get...m onto...etcher!"

 _There was so much pain._

"We...d to..."

 _So many torture devices they'd used to do this to him._

Hands strapped his arms and legs down. He whimpered.

 _Would do it to him again._

He felt something find itself over his mouth.

 _No! He couldn't let them get him again! He couldn't watch!_

 _"Ed!"_ A low voice startled him. Echoed into his brain; but whose it was, he wasn't certain. It hurt too much to think. To move.

Ed groaned. The noise resounding against his scratchy throat. Then, he felt it.

Pain wracked his body.

Every inch of him hurt. Even breathing caused a stabbing in his lungs. Was this what it was like to die? Wasn't dieing supposed to be peaceful? He struggled, suddenly terrified.

 _"Dammit, Ed!"_ The voice growled out, not angry, but definitely not happy. He would have laughed, if hands weren't touching him, prying and prodding into every ache and wound he had received. Would have laughed if he wasn't terrified that they'd try to poke more rods and needles into him. That they would abuse, defile, and taint him… rape him- _No!_ He couldn't think like that! He had to do something!

" _Get off me!_ " He yelled. Though his shouts were quieter than he meant them to be, the pain of moving his mouth too much. It was then that he realized he was free. That his arms and legs were no longer bound to the ground. That he was on his back. Damn if it didn't hurt to lie on his back. He flung his nearly limp automail into the being prodding his flesh leg, almost falling off whatever board they had tossed him onto. A loud ' _oomph!'_ could be heard and Ed chortled to himself. If he was going to die, then he wouldn't be the only one. It was then that Ed peaked an eye open, only to stare, horrified, into the face of Blair, a long needle in hand, about to stab him with that awful serum that made him go limp.

"No!" He yelled, louder this time. Struggling harder, ignoring the pain - and the hands - which aided in his defeat. "Keep that away from me, you _bastard!_ " Ed panicked, growling at the signs of tears which welled up at the ends of his eyes. He couldn't do this again! He couldn't be awake while they tortured him, unable to even _speak!_

" _Dammit, Ed! Quit struggling!"_ There was that voice again. It sounded vaguely familiar, but Ed was too flustered to decipher just whose voice it belonged to.

 _"Brother! Please… we're trying to help you!"_ Ed quit struggling, startled at the sound of his brother's voice. There was no way he'd be here, allowing them to torture him. It must be a dream! Still… Ed's fogged and muddled brain desperately wanted it to be his brother _so much_ that Ed opened his eyes again, frantically searching for the large suit of armor.

"A-Alphonse?" His voice quivered. Before he heard an answer, he felt a prick in his arm and then a strange sensation that caused him to become drowsy.

"No! Please!" It became hard to speak. "Alphonse! Make it stop!" His mouth felt like it had cotton in it, and his eyes, never finding his brother, were becoming too drowsy. He was falling asleep. That was almost worse than being awake! He couldn't help it though.

Before he knew it, Ed had fallen asleep, going limp, his brain shutting off to the numbing pain that was the real world.

He awoke again in a hospital room, the beeping noise of the heart monitor the only sound. It sped up in sync with Ed's heart, as if it conspired with his heart to give his position away. The room was terrifying. They'd moved him to an actual hospital, but was there really anybody else out there that could help him? Or was the place empty? Was he even in a hospital room? If they were… Ed trembled at the idea that they had easier access to more tools to use against him, though his eyes glanced down at his body in confusion. He'd been bandaged up. Perhaps fake Edward didn't want him to die, yet? How long had he been captured? Had it been a month yet? What more did they want from him? Ed had nothing left. Nothing. Not even his own will.

"Heh, liar" his cracked and scabbed lips whispered aloud behind an oxygen mask. Damn did his body ache. There was no relief. The pain etched through every part of him. From his flesh leg all the way to the scab on the back of his head. Even if he was a liar, it wasn't like there was much he could do about it now.

Carefully, and slowly, sitting up, Ed placed his feet on the ground, one wrapped in bandages, the other barely any control. He panted, trembling flesh and bandaged broken fingers trying to grip the sides of the bed. His oily golden hair fell in clumps in front of his face, hardly covering his pained, soulless eyes. He took a couple of breaths, before he pulled out the needle in the crook of his elbow, then gingerly removed the oxygen mask and other varieties of machinery and needles that, perhaps if he were in a real hospital, were meant to help him. He did pause at the piece which connected him to the heart monitor. If he wanted to alert his captors, letting them hear the ringing of the heart monitor would be the best way to do so. He'd leave getting rid of that piece until he felt he could escape safely.

Gasping for breath (doing his best to ignore the pain his chest endured) Ed then shakily grabbed the edge of the end bedpost, taking a leap to stand up. He had to make his escape! He had to hurry before they found him! The moment he stood, however, Ed found himself falling to the ground, his leg too swollen and raw to put any pressure. He yelped, startled at his lack of balance, landing on his automail shoulder, leaving him with another shout of anguish.

Ed lost consciousness for only a moment, but that moment cost him precious seconds to flee and instantly, the moment he opened his eyes, he heard footsteps outside. Frightened, Ed scrambled the best he could into the farthest corner he could find, hiding his head, bringing his knees to his chest all the while trying to ignore loose wires, needle-like pain in his shoulder, the burning sensation that his bandaged stomached decided to flare right that second, and an ache pulsing throughout his calf that wouldn't go away. Perhaps if he made himself small, it would be sufficient enough to hide him from the doctors bound to hurt him. Ed jumped the moment the hospital door opened, paying no mind to the ringing of the heart monitor siting his supposed death.

"No! Stay back!" Ed hollered exhaustedly, trembling and cursing himself for giving away his position. It was to Edward's horror that the doctor came with several others. Pretend nurses, probably. What did they want? Foreplay? He trembled while he watched the doctor and nurses stop and stare cautiously. Ed wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle it if they injected _that_ into him again. Losing such control of his body was terrifying and on top of that, being unable to move or even scream as they cut him open? Yeah, not his idea of a fun time.

Ed's breath hitched a fraction as the doctor and nurses slowly began to move again, closing the door. His eyes widened at the action. Nothing good ever came from behind closed doors. "Don't come any closer!" He feigned the action of willing to transmute. There was no way he'd be able to move his fingers, let alone actually do a transmutation, but what the doctor didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.

They paused in their movements, watching his every move. Good. Make _them_ afraid of _him._ The doctor whispered into the ear of the nearest nurse, watching Ed warily. The nurse nodded, watching Ed herself, before she slipped out of the room quickly, as if in a rush.

Ed glared at them. There was _no way_ he was going to allow them to touch him. He would fight tooth and nail if he had too. If they wanted a piece of him, he'd made sure to get a piece of them. No matter the cost. The very idea of it made Ed feel almost feral, and the desire to growl like a wild animal grew. Maybe that would scare them off?

Watching them, Ed could feel his energy waning, and it scared him. How could he fight back if he had no strength? Why did he have no strength? What did they do to him? Then, as if time had never existed, the door opened and in walked the nurse, followed by a worried Mustang. They all stopped, warily watching Ed, all the while, Ed began to internally panic. There was no way that that was Mustang. It was a trick! A Hallucination! Mustang had shown his face to Ed before. In fact, it had happened right before he was taken, but it had been Blair behind the facade, and Ed paid the price. Now he was here again to give Ed agonizing pain once more. No! He couldn't take it!

"S...Stay back!" He tried to shout, but his voice cracked. Damn it all to hell, he better be able to transmute when he demanded the action from his limbs!

"Ed," Came the baritone voice of Mustang. It surprised Ed enough to blink, and stare into the mans' charcoal eyes. His body trembled, and a part of Ed (the weak part, if he did say so himself) wanted to believe that it really was the Bastard Colonel. That he'd really come to rescue Ed.

"Edward," Mustang prodded again, and Ed watched, slightly fascinated, that his mouth moved along with the words, "listen to me, alright? You're safe, but you're badly injured. We need to get you back onto the bed before you end up dying."

"No!" He cried out. No way in hell would he let them touch him again, no way. "Stay away from me!"

"Edward Elric," Ed stiffened at the command, eyes widening. Were they really calling _him_ Edward Elric? "You _will_ allow us to place you back on the bed, and you _will_ cooperate with the doctor. Do you understand? This is a command from your superior officer, and you _will_ do as I tell you." Ed found that he was too terrified to speak, afraid of the repercussions that he'd face because of his lack of submission. He found that the tears he'd been trying to hold back began to quietly spill over, stinging some cuts he'd acquired in his recent adventures.

Irritated with himself, yet unable to anything about the twisting in his stomach, Ed watched as Mustang's jaw moved with clenched teeth, squeezing a fist so tight Ed could see him shaking. Internally, Ed analyzed the action, submissively thinking that he had to make sure he was good so that those hands didn't take their rage out on him. Though, maybe he couldn't help it if _he_ was the problem.

The doctor and nurses slowly made their way to Edward, and he found that despite how scared he was, the idea that Mustang would agonize over him seemed far more ridiculous than anything his mind could have conjured. He prayed that the small amount of hope he wanted to put into these people didn't go to waste. He flinched as the nurses picked him up, managing to hold him secure despite his trembling. Despite the whimpers he couldn't help escape from his mouth.

They walked him carefully to the bed, going to work to put an oxygen mask back on his face; and Ed watched, warily, as the doctor pulled a needle from a familiar looking trey. His eyes widened as he realized that he'd made a terrible mistake. This wasn't a hospital! They weren't real doctors and nurses, and that wasn't really Mustang!

The second the doctor placed a hand on his elbow, Ed screamed, tasting blood from breaking the stitches on the corner of his mouth.

"No! Stay back! Get away from me! Please! No!" He struggled against the hands that held him down, no longer caring that he was stupidly crying once again. What an idiot he'd been, to trust that… that… hallucination! How could he have been so deceived? How could he have allowed himself to believe that he'd been found so easily?

"No more! No more!" His scabbed lips began to bleed as they meekly broke apart, but that was the last of Ed's worries. Ed found that the pain it caused to move his mouth became too much, and he clenched his teeth, this time actually growling his frustration that he couldn't get away, and at his stupidity for believing they wouldn't induce in him with the body numbing fluid into his veins anymore.

Despite all his struggles, Ed felt the prick, and felt the fear as his eyelids began to grow heavy. He tried to fight it, but the power it wielded over him was too much and Ed succumbed to the darkness, only half surprised he wasn't able to stay awake.

* * *

Mustang watched with clenched teeth as the doctor's sedated his subordinate. He hadn't wanted to be so forceful with Ed, but they couldn't allow him to stay on the floor like that. After all, Ed had not been alone in the hospital room for long before he'd woken up. Then, not only to hear Ed screaming, but to see that terrified look in his eyes… to be so afraid of _him_ … that was something that didn't belong there in the first place. What did that damned imposter do to Fullmetal?

Mustang went back to the waiting room where his team and Alphonse were currently sitting in. He nodded to them, before he sat down on a chair, feeling absolutely exhausted. He rubbed his hands over his face, wishing that this were all a dream. How was it that this had happened to Edward Elric? The Fullmetal Alchemist? How could he have prevented this?

Every time Mustang thought of Edward, all he could picture was the kids' naked body, laying trapped on the hard cement, surrounded by blood and decay and fecal matter and… it made him want to puke. Gave him memories of a time far back, before he'd become such a high standing officer. A time filled with fire, and eyes the color of blood. It was memories he had hoped to avoid if he could help it, as the nightmares were enough to exhaust him. He sighed as the doctor came into the waiting room, waving Mustang down to chat quietly.

"It's a good thing we got there when we did. For the time being, Mister Elric needs to stay on oxygen. Within the next twenty-four hours or so,we can determine whether his oxygen levels are high enough to take him off the support."

"Alright." Mustang replied, unable to forget how bruised and battered the boy was. He had seemed so shocked that someone was calling him by name. How could he have become so surprised in so short a time?

"Also, I suggest that, if Mister Elric refuses to eat when he awakens again, we will need to put a feeding tube in him. Unfortunately, he is severely dehydrated, and lacks sufficient nutrients necessary to keep a body functioning. For the time being, he's on the saline drip." The doctor tapped his clipboard, frowning as he stared at the results of injuries Edward had sustained. He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable, discernibly lacking desire to bring up the next topic. Mustang studied him, impatient.

"May I ask, who is the parent or legal guardian of Mister Elric?"

"Hm?" Mustang blinked, surprised by the question. After all, he _was_ a Colonel in the military, and most notably, Edward's superior, which meant… "uh, right. That's me."

"Ah. Well… As I'm sure you're quite aware, Colonel, that in situations such as these we've got to make a report of the injuries sustained for purposes for the court." The doctor shifted once more, his unease making the hairs on Mustang's arms stand up, "And, well... as we were making our examination, we discovered some unexpected injuries that are not typical with such cases as his."

"What the hell do you mean _typical_? What's typical? He was kidnapped and tortured!"

"Sir… the evidence… well… they were… sexual… in nature…"

"What?" The blood drained from Mustang's face when he realized what may have happened to his youngest subordinate, and a sickening pit began to grow in the bottom of his stomach.

"I believe that Mister Elric was sexually assaulted during his… captivity, and I need to know whether or not the evidence should be filed away as evidence."

Mustang glanced at the younger Elric brother, overwhelmingly glad he wasn't close by to hear such sickening insinuations. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Well, it's a… delicate situation. Sometimes… specific details can come back to… ah, hurt the victim more than is right or fair. We will need to have a parent or legal guardian; in this case, you, to give your consent to file it away or not as Mister Elric is currently unconscious and we need to submit the reports as soon as possible."

"I…" Mustang's mind was clearly befuddled, because the doctor's troubling information seemed hard for him to process. "What?" Massaging the bridge of his nose, Mustang shifted his stance, "let me get this straight. You want me to make a decision which could drastically affect Edward on a deeply emotional level?"

"Yes." The doctor said, slowly.

"What do you expect would happen, _doctor_?" Mustang stared him down, unable to keep his voice anything but accusatory.

"Well…" came the flustered reply, "obviously, if word were to get out about Mister Elric's… incident… not only would he have to deal with the aftermath of the trauma, but also understand that _everyone_ will know about him and his time in captivity." Ignoring his unease about speaking of such situations and the glare he was currently under, the doctor continued on, "being known as the 'hero of the people' Mister Elric would also have to deal with the fact that his case will most likely end up in court and may end up being a witness against the defendant. Not to mention, the newspapers will have a hayday about the Fullmetal Alchemist."

Mustang didn't like this doctor very much. The man seemed far too cowardly, and yet arrogant. _Asshole_ he grumped, offended for Ed. Though the man had a point. After everything Mustang had briefly seen concerning Ed's physical state, not to mention his own experiences after returning from war and dealing with local gossip, he had an inkling how Ed would handle everything; and Mustang had no doubt that this kind of information would become public knowledge. It somehow always did. Blasted newspaper journalists.

"I'm sorry to rush you, Colonel, but I really must know what you would like me to do."

"Fine," Mustang sighed, roughly, quickly coming to a decision, "leave that evidence out of the official reports." Mustang suddenly had the desire to flee, as the doctor promptly scribbled notes on his clipboard.

"Also, as you are well aware, Mister Elric has a lot of psychological trauma and tendencies which have already led to instances of post-traumatic-stress-disorder. I'm afraid, with the extent of his injuries, that may not leave Mister Elric for quite some time. He is going to need to see a Psychologist for a while. We have one available at the hospital while he stays here, but he will need to find someone more permanent once he is discharged and clear to leave. Does Mister Elric have any family he's staying with?"

"His brother," Mustang replied, glancing at Alphonse once more. The younger Elric brother was watching them, and Mustang could practically feel the anticipation to know what was happening with his older brother.

"I see." The doctor frowned, "if I am correct in my assumption, Colonel Mustang," pushing up his glasses, the doctor cleared his throat, "the other Elric brother is younger than Edward?"

"That's correct," Mustang's eyes narrowed, wondering where the doctor was going with this.

"It might be worth it to make sure that Edward Elric stays with a parent or legal guardian. At least, while he recuperates for a few months. What Mister Elric experienced will most likely not be easy for him to handle. He will be very distrustful, and hard to be around for the first little while."

"I see…" Not that Edward wasn't already an annoying twerp that happened to show up in his office like a never ending, happy to irritate, chirping bird; the news was still unsettling. "Thank you, doctor." They shook hands as courtesy dictated before the doctor left the waiting room.

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 **There you have it! I'm not a doctor and am no expert on proper procedures and whatnot, so if you find something I could correct, let me know! Otherwise, please R &R! I seriously giggle when I get them xD Until next time**

 **Ja'ne!**


	12. Chapter 11 Part 1

**Hey guys! Firstly... I am SO SORRY for how long it's taken me to post up this chapter! Especially to RedCeleste whom I had promised to have this out about 2 weeks or so ago... (my sister is getting married tomorrow so it's been super crazy the last few weeks.) Secondly, I want to thank everyone who has stayed with this story and who has continued to favorite or follow even though it's been a while since I last posted. xD I'm tellin' ya, you guys. Do you know how many times I rewrote the beginning of this chapter? Not only that, I discovered how bad it is to read other people's fanfics that are in the same fandom as you and relatively close to the same genre that you're writing. It seriously discourages you concerning your own writing. Truly, I've felt very stilted and disconnected with my character's and have felt like this chapter is not very good, but at the moment, I need to just push past what I've got written and come back later once I've had time to think and really enjoy what I want to get written.**

 **ALSO! I've officially got 50 reviews! Yay! A milestone! Thank you so much for your reviews that truly make my day!**

 **One last thing! I've rewritten the ending of the last chapter, so you better check it out for this chapter to make sense xD And now...**

 **On to the story!**

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Edward slowly opened his eyes, noting how tired he felt. In fact, he probably could've used several more hours of sleep, but such mercy evaded him. As tired as he was, he didn't want to allow himself to be stuck in its blissful silence while his captors did who knew what to him. Better that he be awake and conscious over unconscious and thereby much like a dummy, unable to make them stop.

The sight that assaulted him, however, was not one he had expected.

The ceiling was white. The heart monitor beeped in sync to his pulse (which had increased for a minute upon awakening) and there was an unmistakeable oxygen mask over his face. Ed lay there, confused, wracking his brain to remember the last thing that had happened.

He remembered blurry faces, and the overwhelming feeling of panic. Voices that he wasn't sure had been real or fake, but, (from the looks of the doctor's office) perhaps real. Or was his earlier assumption correct? Edward really couldn't be sure, and he really hated the idea that he was unable to actually remember.

His breathing staggered as he exhaled. The twitching of his fingers brought upon a burning sensation across his whole forearm, and Ed held back a wince. _Well, you've really done yourself in this time, Eddy._ Ed would have huffed at himself (not even at the fact that he'd inherently called himself that abhorrent name), if the very action of breathing didn't pull at his tender skin. And tender it was. An unmoving glance at his body told Ed that he had no clothing on. A hospital gown and blanket covering him was his only form of modesty, and Ed sorely missed his boxers and leather pants.

 _Oh honey, you don't need your clothes, do you?_ A silky voice caressed his mind. With a quick glance at the door and the spiking-for-just-a-moment heart monitor, Ed was reassured that no, Karly had not somehow entered the room without his knowledge. However, when the door to the hospital room almost immediately opened, Ed violently jerked, groaning in pain at the action as he did so.

Blinking with little surprise, an older nurse looked up from his clipboard to find Edward awake and in pain.

"Good morning, Mister Elric! It's quite a pleasure to see you awake this morning." He walked next to Ed's bedside, checking over a few of the stats, a momentary frown etched across his greying features. "Looks like you've had quite the morning, eh?" He clucked his tongue, "no matter! We'll have you pip and prim and ready for muscle rehab in no time!"

"W-what?" Ed, trembling, tried to whisper but found that the lack of using his voice for a good amount of time prevented anything more than a crackle to make it's way through. He did not succeed in getting an answer from his outright stare of the nurse. If anything, Ed felt far more confused than he should have. After all… shouldn't it be Blair that entered the room? Who was this new person? Why were they watching his vitals? _What were they planning to do to him?_ His heart rate sped up, the sound causing his anxiousness to heighten. This, the doctor noticed right away.

"Whoa there, tiger. It's alright." The old nurse watched him, worry creasing his features, splitting his attention between Ed's panic and the liquid dripping medicine into Ed's body. "You don't have to worry, son. No one's going to hurt you, here" The nurse pulled out a needle, flicking its tip a few times to get out the air pockets, then quickly let loose the liquid into a bag of liquid that hooked into the top of his hand..

Frozen in a state of shock and unable to fight back, Ed simply shook his head a tiny, quick shake, unwilling to believe the words. This had to be some sort of test, right? No doubt about it, but Ed wouldn't give the bastards the satisfaction of fooling him so easily. He stiffly watched the nurse jot words down, unwilling to relax until the smiling man had gone.

The second he left, Ed let out a second shaky breath, squeezing his eyes tight. It wasn't another minute before he realized that the pain he felt had lessened considerably. Any panic he felt seemed dulled, too, as Ed slowly lifted his bandaged hand, marvelling in his inability to feel almost nothing radiating from the movement. He briefly wondered if this was what it felt like when you were dieing, before remembering that the nurse had drugged him.

With a cough to clear his scratchy throat, Ed looked at his surroundings, wondering in vain how long he would get to stay sleeping on a bed. Unless… That was their plan. Get him comfortable enough before they cruelly ripped away that small shred of happiness from him as well, all the while laughing in his face.

He jolted once more when, after a short time later, the door open, revealing someone that Ed couldn't believe was actually there. They stared at each other for a few long seconds.

"Brother," Came the delayed response, relief achingly obvious in the inflection of his echoed voice before Alphonse hesitantly entered the room.. Ed sighed softly, gulping his trembling down, cursing himself for not believing that it really was Alphonse.

His amazing younger brother, a soul trapped in a suit of armor of which clanged loudly as he entered the hospital room, closed the door behind him. Ed nervously glanced at the closed door, part of him hoping that this encounter was exactly as it seemed, the other part berating himself for thinking such things about his own little brother. He was almost jealous that Alphonse was so emotionally stable, while he couldn't help but question his own reality.

Ed watched Alphonse like a hawk as he slowly approached the side of the bed.

"Hey, Alphonse," Ed began, his throat parched. He half expected a caustic laughter that would prove to Ed he'd once again mistaken his captors as someone that he held so dear to his heart. When the laugh never came, he could physically feel his body relaxing.

Except, Ed was then surprised and jerked back into the bed when he felt a leather hand touch his arm. Though its touch was soft, Ed was quickly reminded of what that feeling brought. Pain. Pain, pain, and more pain.

"Don't come any closer!" He croaked shakily, trying to threaten his enemy. What good was it, though, when he couldn't even move his arm? They'd bandaged him pretty tightly and drugged him enough that moving was difficult. Perfect enough to hurt him without too much of a fight. Why they didn't make him motionless, Ed couldn't be certain, but he would be damned if he didn't fight back this time! He'd tried so hard in that cellar. He'd even been given a chance to get away, _twice_ , but he had blown it.

"Brother! I…" The hand which Alphonse had touched him had quickly been retracted, the fisted leather taking its spot next to Al's side once again. "I'm sorry, brother…" he replied quietly, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Then just like that, Ed's eyes cleared, the realization that Alphonse was truly there in his room predominantly in his face.

"Alphonse?" Ed looked at the metal face of his living brother, right there in front of him. Tears that he hadn't known were on the verge of appearing, welled in his eyes, his body trembling for an entirely different reason. "You're really Alphonse?"

"Um, yes, Brother. I'm really here. I promise I'm not going anywhere!" The promise seemed too surreal.

"I just… j-just tell me… why…" he gulped, "why are you in a suit of armor?" The question was risky. If this happened to be a hallucination, Ed could have cost himself some very real pain in the near future for questions he would not be willing to answer. But he needed to know.

Desperately, he needed to know.

For a moment, Alphonse's hesitation was frightening, and Ed nearly thought he had made a mistake, when the younger Elric definitively responded with a quiet hollowness, "we committed the taboo, Brother. Because all we wanted, was to see our mother's smiling face one more time."

Ed's relief was impalpable. He could feel more tears threatening to spill over his cheeks. When had become so weak and blubbery? He turned his head away, doing his best to hide how emotional he was. Not that Alphonse hadn't seen him crying already anyway. Still, somewhere inside, Ed had that ever-encompassing pride which didn't quite want to let up.

"Everyone's been worried about you." Alphonse quietly stated, conversationally.

"E-everyone?"

"Mm-hm. You know, Hawkeye, Havoc, Breda, Falman, Fuery…" A metal arm rubbed the back of the metal head, "heh, at least. Everyone that matters. Oh! And Winry too. She's been worried… after the fourth day… I had to let her know what was happening… you know how mad she gets if she doesn't know stuff…"

"Winry? You talked to Winry?" Golden eyes flashed panic. _Not her! Anyone but her! Please let her be safe!_ Memories assaulted Ed's mind when he remembered just why he should be in a panic.

 _"Now, how about this Winry girl of mine? You know of her, I assume. Can you imagine what kind of an amazing girlfriend she is? A pretty sweet creature if you ask me. Such… delicate features. I can definitely see myself with her. What with soft, plump-"_

 _"You stay the hell away from Winry, you bastard!" Ed growled, instantly worried for Winry's life. They weren't supposed to be going after people he knew. Not only that, how the crap had they gotten information on Winry? How had they even come to know her name? Shit this was looking to be bad._

 _So consumed was Ed in his thoughts, he didn't realize the danger he'd put himself in until he felt something against the corner of his mouth. Without getting a chance to think or understand what was about to happen, a snipping sound like scissors cutting paper invaded the air before Ed yelled out in pain._

 _The bastard had snipped the corner of his mouth! Ed's loud cry caused the wound to rip further back than was cut and he could feel tears coming quickly; so much so that Ed had no chance to even think of squelching them. The pain was so surprising._

 _Simultaneously, Ed could taste the iron of his blood as it gushed into his mouth and dripped off his chin. He'd never felt anything like this before in his life. He wished he never had._

 _To avoid focusing on the pain, Ed tried whispering out the periodic table, but found any noise or movement of his mouth made the pain worse. Huffing heavily, head bowed against his chest, he opted to recite the table in his head. It was what kept him sane in instances like this._

" _I don't know how many times I have to tell you before it will sink into your head." Fake Edward was now in Ed's face, their breath mingling. Ed, with sweat cascading down his brow, head bowed, and the wannabe, staring at him gravely, "I. Don't. Like it. When. You. Talk. Back." He spoke every word with great emphasis, mouth clenched. Ed, though, couldn't hardly think. Just panted. Feeling his stomach squirm and roil._

"-ther!" _a distant voice called to him. It sounded so much like_ Alphonse…

"Brother!" _the voice_ called once again. Ed sucked in a quick breath, snapping his eyes open and promptly squawked in surprise to see Alphonse in his face, the worry in his voice unmistakable.

At the recognition apparent in Ed's eyes, Alphonse sighed with great relief (Ed always wondered why he'd make those noises when he didn't actually need to breathe. Though, while it baffled him, on some level, Ed figured it was just to make himself seem more human. Perhaps he had just answered himself.) Either way, the sight of his younger brother in the "flesh" impacted Ed's peace of mind more thoroughly than he imagined it would.

After a couple swift intakes of air, Ed looked away, ashamed at losing face in front of Al.

"Sorry… Alphonse."

"...it's alright, Brother. I'm-" The door opening cut off whatever Al had been about to say to Ed. Its motion surprised both the boys, and the sound of Al's bulky armor jolted Ed out of his brief, inner terror. When Mustang entered the room, he glanced at the slowing heart monitor. Ed had no doubt he took notice of Ed's panic. _Great_ he drawled, unwilling to acknowledge that just seeing the bastard's face made a part of him automatically relax. That was a dangerous thing to admit. The worry lines creased on his forehead made Ed look away, as if embarrassed. He'd not seen an adult's face that worried for his well-being since Izumi Curtis, and that had been who knows how long. Though, Mustang being the person behind that persona this time weirded him out a little.

Behind Mustang, the old nurse followed, carrying a tray of food in his hands.

"Well, Mister Elric, you seem to be full of excitement every time I pop in here," He smiled at Ed after setting the tray of food in front of him. Ed stared at the contents, feeling a little queasy. How long had it been since he had had a decent meal? How sad was it that Ed thought that the hospital food was decent? His most recent memories were… less than appetizing to say the least.

"Now, I realize that you can't very well eat your food by your own hands, so I am more than willing to feed you. However, if you'd rather have one of your friends help you out instead, that is okay, too." The guy smiled at Ed, and he had to wonder how the man had the will to smile when he had a patient so gung-ho on _not_ smiling. Where did he find that energy? Ed wondered if he'd had that kind of ability even before… everything.

It was a few seconds before Ed realized he'd simply been staring at the nurse before quickly turning his gaze away, staring at the food.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, "I can eat this myself." No longer would he rely on others to do what he was perfectly capable of doing on his own.

"Brother-"

"Edward, you are hardly able to move. Let one of us help you. If not me, then at least let Alphonse." Anger flared in Ed's chest at Mustang's commanding request. What right did he have to tell Edward what to do? Especially when it came to _feeding_ himself.

"I'm fine" he quipped quietly, not daring to raise his eyes from the plate, "I can do this myself." Ed waited for at _least_ three seconds before he realized that he'd been expecting a smack to his head, or a flick against his lips, or a foot to press obnoxious and painful against his aching toes. He cautiously raised his eyes, hardly daring to breathe, before the anxiety in his chest released when he saw that the people in front of him were still there. Even if their expressions were too worried for him.

He cast his gaze once more to the plate of food in front of him, trying desperately to keep the embarrassment from flooding his cheeks. They didn't need to know how terrified he'd been in the hands of that… that _creep._ They didn't need to know how hollow he felt. That his heart felt like it could shatter into a million pieces if he so much as had one more thing he did wrong. Yet, didn't he just do something wrong? By refusing to allow them to help him, how was it that he hadn't broken down?

The nurse, Mustang, and Alphonse watched tentatively as Edward slowly moved his casted arm towards the plate. Ed desperately wanted to prove to them that he needed no ones help to eat, but when he realized that some of the foods were not simply liquid, that he'd have to actually pick up a utensil, that's when he paused, sighing in defeat. Come to think of it, he didn't actually want to eat the food in front of him anyway. He childishly pushed the plate away.

"I'm not hungry." He stated, ignoring the eyes of disapproval.

Al spoke first, his voice careful, "Brother… you need to eat…"

"Yeah, well, maybe later." Ed kept his eyes downcast, not daring to see what was sure to be anger on their faces. Maybe he should starve himself. Maybe that would end the torture. Maybe they would free him if they saw how useless it was to keep him around, that they really had no need to hold him hostage.

"Fullmetal." Came the baritone voice and Edward quietly gasped and whipped his eyes towards the voice, feeling ridiculous when he realized how lost he'd been moments ago. "You need to eat, Fullmetal. Whether it be by me, or Alphonse, you will."

The nurse cleared his throat, "excuse me, Mr Mustang,"

"Colonel,"

"Er, yes. Colonel Mustang. But I feel inclined to tell you that force is not the best way to help someone to want to eat and get better. That is only something they can decide."

"I appreciate your concern, Nurse Greymen, but I think I know best how to help my subordinate."

"While I have no objections regarding your stewardship over Mister Elric, Colonel Mustang, Sir, I do object to your knowledge on how you should be handling the situation at hand."

"Need I remind you that I have the authority to have you stripped of your certifications and residency here at the hospital?" The anger in Mustang's voice was low and seemed almost… misplaced to Edward. That Mustang would threaten a nurse because of him? Because the bastard didn't like the directions Nurse Greyman (as Ed now knew his name to be) was giving to help improve his health, was comical; so much so that Edward couldn't help the snort that sounded.

Silence reigned in the room, before all eyes were cast on Ed, and suddenly, his comfort level went into the negatives. He squirmed, keeping his eyes downcast, not wanting to see the looks they were giving him. Just in case.

Just in case what, Edward couldn't quite place, but still… _just in case._

His amusement over the situation lightened the mood in the room, and both Nurse Greyman and Colonel Mustang shifted their coats, while Alphonse audibly sighed his relief at the released tension.

"Your Colonel Mustang is right, though," Nurse Greyman turned his attention back to Ed, "you can't become healthy, or heal well enough, if you don't eat. Doctor Klighter asked me to tell you that if you don't eat, you will end up needing a feeding tube. I don't suggest that route. Very uncomfortable from what I hear." His speech had brought him closer to Ed, hoping to gain Ed's full attention; but Ed felt extremely self-conscious, astutely aware of his disheveled appearance.

He did his best to move into a more comfortable position hoping to dissuade the nurse from keeping such stark attention on him, taking no note of the pained face he was making as he did so. Nurse Greyman tsked, moving to help Edward out, pausing at the small jerked motion Ed made when he came too close.

"I'll leave you with your friends and family and will be back later. Hopefully to a plate that's been rummaged with." He winked at Ed, and Ed wasn't sure whether he felt grateful for the time, or unnerved by the nurse's confidence.

Alphonse and Mustang stood in the room a little awkwardly. With the nurse gone, it was almost like they weren't sure what they should be saying to Ed. It was absolutely irritating yet Edward couldn't bring himself to be openly angry. It wasn't as if they'd hurt him for yelling at them for their awkwardness; after all, it wasn't uncommon in the past. But now… now he was beyond that time. He's been through more hell than he ever thought possible. And it wasn't as if he was unfamiliar with the pain hell brings, but this… this was different. He glanced at his bandaged arm and leg; at the ports which no longer supported his will. His nose burned, and Edward had to blink before his fluctuating emotions overwhelmed him. He couldn't let them see his weakness.

Especially Alphonse. He needed to prove to Alphonse he was strong.

That he could do what was necessary.

That he wasn't worthless.

"Well, you heard the man," Mustang growled, quietly, "eat up." With that, he turned on his heel and left the room.

Both Alphonse and Edward watched the door close, Edward feeling a little stunned. He blinked a few times, watching the door, until Al spoke.

"He's been worried, you know." If the room hadn't been so quiet, Ed wasn't sure he'd have picked up what Alphonse said.

"Sure." Why he felt the need to sound bitter, Ed wasn't sure. The very idea of Mustang having any ounce of worry for him gave Ed mixed feelings on the matter. He didn't need someone's pity. He could take care of himself. _Heh, as if_ a piece in the back of his mind scoffed.

"He was the one who found you, after all. It's been hard on him to see you like this."

Ed's eyebrow twitched, irritated, but he said nothing. It wasn't Alphonse's fault that this happened to him. In reality, if Edward had just been a little stronger, a little more self-aware, he would have been able to notice the danger before they snapped him up. Or rather, if he'd recognized the poison in his arm from the stupid scratch that… that _woman_ had given him, perhaps he and Alphonse would be on their way to finding the philosopher's stone right this minute.

Instead, he could hardly stand looking at Alphonse, for fear of him seeing how ashamed Edward felt. Thoughts of _them_ brought on the sick feeling in his stomach he'd had when he'd first been disgustingly touched and violated and he could feel it beginning to roil in his belly. The urge to throw up came quickly and Edward found himself painfully dry-heaving to the side of the bed, effectively throwing the contents of hospital food along with him.

"Brother!" Alphonse cried, hovering. Edward shook his head, unwilling to allow himself the help, not wanting to be attacked by the memories. His body shook as he maneuvered himself back into the sitting position he'd been in previously, panting in pain with the effort it took. _Holy hell, moving really hurts_.

"Brother! Are you alright? What can I do to help you?"

"I-It's…" Ed panted shakily, "it's fine, Al. I'm f-fine."

"Brother…. Ed…" Alphonse's own armor shook with the emotion he could not expel, "don't lie to me, dammit! I can see that you're _not_ fine! _Please_ Brother… I just… I just want to help."

Ed glanced away with a wince. The dull ache from the morphine was beginning to recede and the pain wracking his whole body was starting to have an effect on him again

"You're right, Al. I'm sorry…" He grimaced. How many times had he apologized to Al in just this one visit? It was exhausting. "I think I just need some more sleep." Which actually wasn't a lie. Ed felt weak, sore, and like he had a thousand pins and needles prickling the top of his skin; which, sadly, wasn't a sensation he was unfamiliar with.

Alphonse hesitated, scrutinizing him. Not that Ed could blame him. It wasn't often that Ed truly wanted to be alone, and there was the syncher. Ed couldn't tell whether he wanted to be alone and away from eyes that held so much expectation and hope in their burning fires or not. In fact, some part of him was terrified to have Al leave the room. What would happen? Would this reality cease to exist? Would he wake up to find that he was still in that basement?

Another part of him wanted Alphonse to go. To prove he was strong enough on his own. To prove he didn't need any kind of crutch. _To… to get away from his shame._

"Okay, Brother." Ed tried not to notice the touch of hurt that laced Al's voice. Guilt clenched his heart but he felt too conflicted to do anything about it. After a small hesitation, Alphonse moved towards the door. "I'll just be outside. If you need me, just have a nurse or the doctor come get me, okay?"

"Right... I'll do that." The half smile Ed managed was hardly convincing, but he watched with something akin to relief as Alphonse left anyway. He couldn't quite call it relief. His heart clenched to see his brother leave him alone once more. It was more like… he could allow himself to shake away the need to appear alright.

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 **Yup... Ed's crazy xD but don't worry! More fluff'll be comin' yer way. We've got the 2nd half of this chapter and then more to come. w00t! Please read and review because reviews are like life-lines. They motivate you in a way that you didn't think possible. Plus I've missed my reviewers. You guys are all awesome! (Everyone who favorited and followed are pretty cool too xD )**

 **Oh... and I'm deleting the author's note... it's a little outdated, don't ya think? :3**


	13. Chapter 11 Part 2

***peeps around a corner* Uh... Hi Guys! xD So... it's been a while, ne? I am SO SORRY that it has taken so long! But I told myself that I would have the last half of this chapter out before I hit the 4 month marker. It may have been a few days shy of that goal but... I did it!** **(um... it's been only 4 months, right? Crap I can't remember!)** **Honestly, I tried to have it out by Thanksgiving (which was my birthday this year. Reviews would've made for an Euphoric birthday!) and then I tried to do it for Christmas, and then New Years... yeah... you know how that worked out.**

 **Here's a small tip: don't watch an anime from a different fandom that you're writing in. Otherwise you lose focus and get out of character. :P (blasted Naruto!)**

 **But seriously... I have to thank you all SO MUCH for the reviews I received, as well as the likes and favorites! It truly means a lot to me and because knowing that I had readers out in the world who wanted more of this story, it led me to push myself to get this chapter out. Especially since I've had so much darn trouble getting it written. Anyway... enough babbling, ne? On to the story!**

 **Enjoy!**

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Alphonse let out a frustrated sigh. A twinge of hurt and guilt raided his emotions and a part of him was grateful for the time he had alone to re-adjust how he would react towards Edward. The person in that room was not someone he'd been expecting. Well, if he were honest with himself, Alphonse _had_ been expecting some repercussions because of this kidnapping, after all… he'd seen Edward before they'd taken him. Seen how… beaten and abused and, and… _tortured_ he'd been; but still, for his nii-san to be so scared of _him_ … that was a little harder to take.

New fears arose as Alphonse thought on it. What if his brother never got better? Would he be able to continue being a state alchemist? Would he even want to? Would Alphonse be left in the dust, forgotten, only to be a reminder of some sick psycho because of what body his soul was sealed to?

The child in Alphonse wanted to scream that it just wasn't fair. He was too young to have to deal with this. He shouldn't be feeling like he had nowhere to turn. Where was the justice? Why them? _Why him?_ However, as soon as those thoughts entered his mind, he'd remind himself that it was his fault. He'd made the mistake right along with his brother to commit the ultimate taboo. They may not have known what the consequences would be, but they certainly knew it was taboo for a reason.

He could laugh at his stupidity. They may have been prodigies, but they had definitely been stupid.

Still... who was the stupid one now? How could he be so selfish when his brother was in so much pain in the other room? Alphonse trudged, downtrodden, taking the long way back to the waiting room. Memories played in his mind of a time when he had been confused about himself and his brother. Confused about whether or not he was a real person or a figment of Edward's imagination. If he had had any doubts by this point in time, Alphonse could now say with confidence that they were officially squashed. Who would let themselves stay in the military with chances such as this to happen to them, if it wasn't for a cause as important as getting your body back? Of course, that wasn't taking into account any of those with a power struggle.

Looking up, Alphonse found himself in front of the waiting room. Red eyes filled with fire and life, albeit the soul a little weary, took in the forlorn looks of each member of Mustang's squad, and for a brief moment, felt his heart soar to know how many people cared about his brother. Despite how tough Edward acted, Alphonse knew that he needed to be cared about. Thrived on it, really. As much as he tried to push himself away, he always ended up clinging closer to those whom he decidedly hated. Alphonse was not ignorant when it came to Ed.

"Well? Did he start eating?" Mustang asked, worry laced in the words.

"No. Not when I was leaving, anyway. He, uh, actually threw up before I left. I doubt he'll want to eat after that.."

Everyone's head snapped up at Alphonse's words.

"Is chief alright?" Havoc asked, quickly.

"Did the doctor come in and say anything else?" Breda spoke next.

"Do you think he is too tired for more visitors?" Came Feury's inquiry.

"Uh…" The questions came so fast, Alphonse didn't know where to start first.

"I thought I already told you, the boy is too exhausted and skittish for anymore visitors." Mustang grumbled before Alphonse had a chance to speak.

"Well, ya never know. Chief could have been more sane after you left. Though I guess throwing up wouldn't really have helped that matter..." Havoc smirked, half-heartedly. Circumstances and all that. Alphonse, however, was relieved he didn't have to reiterate the events just then. He felt far too confused and hurt to want to go into much detail. He did, however, answer the one.

"Brother was tired, so he's resting now." He watched as the team sat back into their seats. If it hadn't been for the fact that it was a Sunday, he doubted any of them would be at the hospital right that moment.

"I guess if the chief is sleeping, I should come back later." Havoc spoke up several minutes later. The silence was definitely getting to them. Watching them, Alphonse was glad none of them knew the loneliness of never sleeping.

"What, you got a date or something?" Breda rose an eyebrow, staring at his comrade lazily, hands in his pockets. Havoc grinned, the smile barely reaching his eyes. He looked up at the ceiling, resting his head against the wall behind him.

"As a matter of fact, I do. A beauty, she is. Met her a few days ago. Kelsie with an 'I-E'. Reminds me of the homunculus, Lust, actually… when we were dating…" The whole team watched as his eyes glazed over when thinking of the homunculus. That really would be terrible to find out your girlfriend was a creature like that. Not to mention being betrayed by her in the end… Alphonse really knew next to nothing about girls and dating (apart from Winry), but he imagined that having been tricked by someone you cared about couldn't make you feel very good about yourself.

With a sigh, Havoc stood up, methodically chewing on his unlit cigarette.

"I better go before I miss our date. Kelsie is a pretty thing. A beautiful rack, too," he winked at Alphonse, "wouldn't want to disappoint." With that, he slowly meandered out of the waiting room, hands in jean pockets, pausing to glance in the direction of Edward's room before leaving.

All was quiet once Havoc left. Taking a glance around the room, Alphonse wondered if he should let everyone else know that they didn't need to stay. Edward would be just fine even if they left. Well… not _fine_ fine. Just… fine. In fact, Alphonse wondered how much Ed would actually _want_ to see everyone. Or rather… if he'd even be able to handle it.

They sat in the waiting room, listening to the activity of the hospital as the day passed on. Slowly, when no word came about his brother, the team began to trickle on home (with some prodding from Mustang. Despite his commanding presence, the Colonel really did care about the well-being of all of his team.) Every one of them protested leaving, insisting that they wanted to see Edward to at least say hi, but as the day wore on, Mustang was able to convince all but Hawkeye and Alphonse to go home and rest.

No way would Alphonse go home. He vowed to never leave his brother unattended ever again. At least… not until he was normal again. Could he even _be_ normal again? Was it a selfish thought to hope that Ed wouldn't stay so frightened for the rest of his life? Probably. Which was why Alphonse decided, as he sat staring at the walls of the waiting room, that he would be Edward's bodyguard. Until he could physically see that Ed was better, and could once again take care of himself. Because, as much as Ed tried to convince them that he really _could_ take care of himself, he needed help. Alphonse would be there to give it. It was the least he could do for all that Edward had been doing and sacrificing for him.

He clenched a fist, unable to forget just how scared Ed had been when he'd first woken up on the stretcher. How he could barely hold back a flinch when Alphonse had been in his room earlier. How afraid Ed had been of _him._ If only he could go back to their fight. To stop Ed from leaving their dorm. _If only._

A sigh from Mustang brought Alphonse out of his internal misery. "Really, Hawkeye. You should go home and rest. No use waiting here when nothing is happening."

"No chance, sir." Hawkeye responded, opening one of her closed eyes. "I'm not just waiting here for you, sir." She nodded her way to Alphonse, "I'm sure every one of us feels helpless; but I know you, and Alphonse. You need support, just as much as Edward. Both of you." Her words made Alphonse's soul swell with thanks and something else. Thoughts of his mom popped in his head, and if he hadn't been a soul attached to a suit of armor, he was sure he'd want to cry. As it was, he hunkered down further into the couch, the armor creaking loudly in the quiet room.

It was just one memory, and vague at that. He remembered being sick, feverishly so. Could remember that he'd been sweating, and hot. Those sensations seemed foreign now, but he remembered that that was how he was. He could remember the sound of a lullaby, soft and reassuring. The creaking sound of the rocking chair that was in his room. Perhaps he had been in his mother's arms? The bigger details he had trouble recalling. Same with his mother's face, but that didn't really matter. What mattered was that he had felt safe and secure, even though he was very sick.

He peaked a glance at Hawkeye. Everyone had fallen into a comfortable silence. Maybe… maybe she could be the kind of motherly touch Edward could use.

Feeling saddened about what once was, and what he could never have again, Alphonse stood. "I'm going to take a walk… I'll be back."

"...Alright." The Colonel replied, watching him as diligently as the hawks eye. He slowly made his way out of the waiting room, barely noticing the activity of nurses walking briskly each way down the halls. He glanced in the direction of his brother's room, wondering if he should go and take a look at his brother, to make sure if he was alright, but decided he must still be asleep and turned the other way to head outside.

That was when he heard it.

A loud, piercing scream, unquestionably his brother's. Without a second thought, Alphonse ran towards the sound, surprised when he approached an open hospital door and saw a doctor, several male nurses and a whimpering female nurse in the opposite corner of the room favoring her left elbow, struggling to pin his brother onto the bed.

"Stop! Stop! Stop! Get away from me!" Came the cry, doing everything he could to make sure no one touched him, ineffective though it was.

"It's alright-ngh-Edward! We just need to-argh!" The struggle was surprising. Never before had his brother ever been so obstinate towards the doctor's.

"Get away from me! Don't touch me! Stop!" Panic was clearly written in Edward's eyes, tears clinging to the edges. Alphonse stood stock still, unsure what he should be doing right then. Another nurse ran into the room, barreling past Alphonse, carefully holding a needle filled with liquid. Seeing this, Edward struggled harder.

"Please, no! Don't you dare touch me! I swear I will bite you if you even come close to me with that needle! I swear I won't go down without taking someone with me!" The nurses and doctor held steadfast to Edward, none of them taking notice that blood was seeping out of stitches underneath his bandages. Feeling distraught and helpless, Alphonse watched the whole scene take place right in front of him. Watched as they manhandled his brother. How could they do that? He had to do something!

With a start, Alphonse was pushed to the side as Mustang came rushing in, anger clearly written on his face as he took in the scene.

"What the hell is going on here?" He growled out, though not moving to stop the doctor, either. They barely gave him a glance as they continued to hold the struggling alchemist down. Edward, though, quit his shouting, breathing heavily as he looked towards the door.

"Alphonse?" He whimpered, so softly it pained Al to see his brother so terrified. The doctor took that moment to explain what was going on, while the nurse took advantage of Edward's sudden halt to give the injection.

"I was just in the middle of explaining to Edward that he would need to have surgery to correct the problems that have occurred due to the many lacerations and meddling done near his ports when he started lashing out."

Mustang's expression darkened. "You're joking right? When I gave permission for you to contact his mechanic, I didn't realize how soon you intended to get things done. Everybody and his dog can see that Edward isn't yet healthy enough for surgery!"

At the word, Edwards plea's started anew. "Alphonse! _Please_ Alphonse, please help me! Don't let them do this! Make them stop! I… I…" The healthy occupants of the room held him down, the nurse with the sedative backing away from the alchemist, taking the now empty needle with.

Alphonse pushed past Colonel Mustang and the retreating nurses, not listening to the excuse the doctor gave the Colonel, to go stand next to his brother, nearly taking a frail hand into his own large, hollow one. However, he pulled back when the sight of bloody bandages reminded him why that would be a bad idea. Damn the bastards who did this to his brother!

"It's okay, Brother," came his soft reply, "You're safe. You're going to be okay." A mental image of biting his lip came into Al's mind, cursing his unfeeling body when he couldn't relieve the tension so easily. Instead, his armor shook as he wished so desperately that he could stop this pain and terror his nii-san was feeling.

Edward watched him like a hawk, sweat and tired eyes calculating. His panting began to slow down as the medicine worked its magic.

"Is this real, Alphonse?" The words were so quiet that Alphonse had to lean over to hear him better, "right now, are you really here?"

"I am, Brother."

"Can you…" Ed paused, taking another breath, "can you tell me when things are real?"

"Definitely," Alphonse promised, his heart breaking. Tears trickled down Ed's face mingling with blood from unhealed wounds, streaking over his nose as the older alchemist looked at his younger brother. "I'm the real deal, Brother. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here when you wake up! So will Colonel Mustang. All of us will be here."

That was all Alphonse could say before Ed's eyes closed, unconsciousness finally overcoming him. Al didn't even get a nod of acknowledgement that Edward believed him. The thought sickened him. It was almost too much to think that the trust between them was so easily cracked. Too much to think that not only did they have the regret of human transmutation on their hands (Ed carried that guilt more so than he should have!) now his nii-san had to deal with the horrors of… No, Alphonse couldn't even bring himself to think the word. A small, strangled noise escaped him, something near that of a whimper that only a suit of armor could create, as Alphonse reached over to place loose strands of hair out of Ed's eyes. Even in the drug-induced sleep, he looked unsettled.

Noise in the hospital room reminded Alphonse that he was not alone. He looked around to notice several nurses. Some rushing to gather equipment that had been knocked over, one giving comfort to the quivering and injured nurse, while the doctor sighed in exasperation.

Alphonse turned back to his brother, in a small state of shock. What if Ed never overcame this incident? Six days worth of… of torture that led to this state of mind. How? How could so little days prove such outrageous results?

He didn't realize that he had again tuned out his surroundings until Colonel Mustang placed a hand on the armored shoulder and Al's gaze shifted from the movement, only noticing due to the tiny echo his hand created.

"Don't worry, Alphonse. He'll pull through this. It may take awhile, but Fullmetal is strong... and stubborn. He'll be okay." It was a valiant effort to try and make Alphonse feel better, but sadly, Mustang's voice shaking was a dead giveaway that he was struggling to believe those words himself.

"Thanks, Colonel." Alphonse replied, tone of voice filled with a grateful sadness. He would have smiled if he could. Well… maybe not _smiled,_ per say. Alphonse wasn't sure that he'd be able to muster the courage to do so even if he had his body back. Grimace, then. Yeah, he'd probably be able to muster a grimace in the wake of such sad events.

The aftermath of Edward Elric lashing out towards the doctor and nurses led to several problems. The first being that wounds that had been bound and stitched tightly had been broken and the doctor's had to, once again, stitch them up. The second, such rapid movements resulted in a fevered alchemist and the doctor's had to rush Edward to the NICU. Had they not acted so quickly against the rising fever, things could have ended rather differently. Worry was etched onto the faces of each doctor when they finally told Mustang that his fever was, in part, due to the deep lacerations and meddling of his automail, and surgery was a must if the young alchemist wanted to get better. Unfortunately, due to how frail his body was, they had to wait to contact his mechanic until he was "healthy enough" before they would even consider allowing surgery.

"For now, we are going to keep Mister Elric under a sleep-induced coma, and place some feeding tubes inside him until his fever has come down," afraid that if they woke the young alchemist up in such a state, his feverish mind would create more havoc than his weakened body could handle. Mustang was given no choice on the matter.

Several days, a fever that no longer existed, and the removal of a feeding tube later, found an exhausted Roy Mustang in Edward's room, having brought paperwork with him to stay occupied while his subordinate slept. The metal armor that was the younger Elric brother stood unmoving next to the window of the hospital room. A silent guardian.

Through the course of the tiring week, Mustang had to contend with not only his normal bout of paperwork, but also worked with Scheska and the Strongarm Alchemist, Alex Louis Armstrong, to lead investigations and charges concerning not only the impersonation of Edward Elric, kidnapping him and the state of his return, but also with the kidnapping of a young girl. Alexis Amelia Harbor. The severe animal cruelty was also something which Mustang was using to pit against the nonsensical young man that called himself Edward Elric. Remembering coming face to face with the imposter and their distinct sameness made Mustang shudder, and anger surge through him. This kid and his cronies were going to be locked away for a long time if he had anything to do with it.

Glancing at the rescued alchemist sleeping in the hospital bed, Mustang was overwhelmingly glad that they had found him when they did, and yet cursed himself that they took so long. Perhaps if they had gotten to his subordinate sooner, they wouldn't be dealing with such radical hallucinations and fears. What he wouldn't give to be able to be in his office, grumbling at the paperwork his subordinate had once again caused him. So much less stress and paperwork!

He clenched his teeth, glaring at the paperwork, wishing he had the power to turn back time. The sound of Edward groaning caught his attention and Mustang glanced quickly at his frail subordinate, his heart jumping in his chest knowing that Edward was awake. They stared at one another, neither making a move to speak. Mostly because Mustang was afraid of what would happen if he did. How would Fullmetal take it? There was no feasible way to know for certain. Especially when it was so easy to tell how terrified Fullmetal was from where he was sitting, if the visible shaking of his bandaged hand was anything to go by.

"You look like you could use a bath, Colonel." Edward finally croaked, eliciting a small, bone-weary smile.

"Well, if I look it, you probably smell like it." Came the knee-jerk response. So familiar was the banter, that Mustang couldn't help the small laugh that escaped. Of all the things for Fullmetal to say, _that_ wasn't what he was expecting. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit." Edward responded woodenly, wincing when he shifted. Mustang frowned, hating what he was seeing, and wishing he could unsee what he saw. Unsee how abused and broken Edward's body was when they rescued him. His jaw clenched again, and he nearly snapped the pen in his hands, when Edward spoke again.

"Where's Alphonse?"

Mustang released his hold on the pen, letting out a quick breath through his nose. "He's here, Edward." He gestured towards the younger Elric brother, who had glanced in their direction the second Edward started speaking.

"A-Alphonse?"

"Hai, Brother. I'm here." Alphonse drew close to the bed, placing his hands on the bed rail. Well, he would have, except as soon as his hollow hands came near, panic filled Edward's eyes, and Mustang could visibly see him pushing against the bed frame

"Don't come closer!" It amazed Mustang that, with how frail Edward seemed, his voice could still raise several octaves. He felt a little sorry for Alphonse, who immediately pulled away, backing up a step.

"I-I'm so sorry, Alphonse!" A surprised Edward stammered, realizing his mistake.

"It's okay, Brother. I know you didn't mean it." Was Alphonse immediate response. Edward looked down at his lap, shame and embarrassment evident on his face. Mustang's blood boiled to see the sight. How _dare_ that sham of an alchemist condition his subordinate like this! If he could get away with it, Mustang would incinerate the brazen bastard after beating him to a pulp. The little whelp deserved that and more with what he'd done.

Unfortunately, now that Edward was awake, there were a couple things which Mustang had been asked by the doctor to talk to him about. He wished he didn't have to interrupt the brothers from their dismal chat, but there were things that needed to be done before Edward would be able to leave the hospital. He cleared his throat, catching the brother's attention.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you two, but I need to speak with Edward." His confidence did nothing to ease the anxiety knotting his stomach as he watch Alphonse glance towards his bed-ridden brother.

"Sure." He made to move, before a small "Al!" came from Edward. Al paused, and the two stared at one another for a long moment, the panic in Ed's eyes dissipating a fraction. Alphonse gave a small nod before he finally left the room.

"What-" Ed paused, swallowed, and nervously licked his scabbed lips, "what did you need to talk to me about?" Mustang simply stared at him for a moment, frowning at the lack of eye-contact and how fidgety he became. With a sigh, Mustang sat back down in his chair, crossing his legs and thoughtfully folding his arms.

"I've been chatting with the doctor, Edward." Mustang let the sentence hang, gauging Ed's reaction. The most notable tell-tale sign of his distress was the pick-up of the heart monitor. Edward looked up at him briefly, before his gaze darted to his hands (well, the bandaged clump, really.)

"Yeah, what of it?"

"There are a few things that are going to have to happen, whether you want them to or not."

Brow furrowed, Edward didn't bother to look up, "O-Okay… and?"

"Well, for starters, you're going to have to go through therapy. Here at the hospital and after you've been released. Though, before that happens, you need to have surgery done on your automail. We also thought you might want to know that we're going to give Winry a call and have her on the first train to central." Mustang watched as Ed's bug eyes whipped up to look at him, growing larger as he spoke. He pursed his lips at the turmoil he could see within Ed. It almost didn't surprise him to see Ed giving his head an perceivable shake.

"No." He declared soundly. Mustang blinked.

"No?"

"No."

"Fullmetal, I don't think you quite understand. You _will_ be going to therapy, and we are _going_ to call Winry and have her on the first train to central. You don't actually get a choice in this."

Ed's eyes grew hard, doing his best not to let the tremble of his lip grow to an all-out crying fest as he stared intently at his superior. Rage, and perhaps indecision, milled about his thoughts before he finally looked away, off-standish.

"Fine." He quipped, the only indication that he was not as okay by the demands were the visible clenching of his teeth and his inability to continue looking at Mustang.

Initially, Mustang had planned on informing Ed that because of the nature of his kidnapping, as well as the horrendous experiences he'd gone through, the boy impersonating him would need to stand trial. Which meant that Ed was going to have to be a witness. However, due to how terrified Ed seemed at the mere idea that he'd have to face Winry, Mustang thought better of it and decided to wait until a later date to tell him.

Unsure of how to deal with an Edward who was more obstinate than usual, not to mention skittish and traumatized, Mustang sighed before he left the room.

"You can go back in now." He told Alphonse, who had been standing watch by the door the entire time.

"Thanks, Colonel Mustang!" With a hurried bow, Alphonse rushed into the room, Mustang being the only one who noticed the loud stomps on the tiled floor of the hospital room from the armored feet. He stood staring at the door for a moment, contemplating the little he'd told his youngest subordinate. The other thing he had yet to inform the older Elric brother was that he would probably be staying at Mustang's house for the duration of his recovery.

Coming to himself, Mustang glanced at the paperwork, sifting through to the back of the pile where a different kind of paperwork blared up at him. Its crinkled state glaring in his face for the plight of its words and how often the owners disbelief shown.

He really shouldn't have been surprised by the extent of Edward's injuries. In the beginning, after learning about how likely it was that his subordinate was… raped (made him ill just to think it) Mustang just had to know _how much._ How many injuries would tick the list of reasons why Mustang was going to pummel that teenage bastard. Not only did he have to deal with the men and woman they'd taken into custody, but the very first man that they'd detained (through the help of Alphonse) turned out to be an alchemist who had busted out of jail and went missing before they were aware of the situation. He had knocked the security guard unconscious and made some alchemist moves to hide his escape until the next shift change.

The blasted guy caused even more paperwork and worry that Mustang had to deal with, and on top of all that, Mustang had had to have a talk with his own superior officer, informing the damned man of the dire situation (the childish side of Mustang wanted to shove it in his face that this case had actually been a case.) So here Mustang found himself and his team guarding his subordinate's hospital room, and instead of simply waiting and doing what they could to help Edward recover from his ordeal, they had to keep a vigil watch to make sure he wasn't taken from the hospital room, or otherwise harmed.

With an exhausted sigh, Mustang massaged the bridge of his nose, weary from worry. It was amazing how much worrying about someone could drain you of all your energy. He'd never know how Hughes did it. Damn… if only that man were still alive. Footsteps alerted Mustang back to reality. He lifted his tired, coal eyes to gaze upon his queen, Riza Hawkeye. She held more paperwork in her arms, but made no move to hand him any.

"How is Edward doing?" She asked.

"Well, he didn't seem to be in a state of shock like before. So there's that. He seemed to be wary, though; and I never got around to telling him where he'd be staying once he got out of here." Hawkeye stared at him knowingly, an eyebrow raised.

"How are _you_ doing, sir?"

"As can be expected." He missed the sad smile she gave him, having glanced at the paperwork from the hospital; the words glaring at him, words which he never thought he'd see in relation to someone he dealt with personally. Let alone his own, young subordinate.

"You need to eat something, sir." Hawkeye stated, "I am fully aware that you've hardly had anything to eat since Edward was feverish."

"I don't think I'm the one you should be telling to eat something," He could almost hear the pout in his words, but he couldn't help it. Seeing the injuries that Fullmetal sustained over and over again made him physically ill. He lost his appetite every time he looked at the list.

Without realizing it, Mustang had zoned out and found a hand filling his vision. Hawkeye had placed her hand, palm up, demanding the hospital notes.

"I don't think you should be looking at those notes, sir. At least, not right now."

Mustang stared at at his lieutenant, while his heart lurched at the thought of releasing his hold on the descriptive pages. A part of him felt like, if he let go of the words, he'd forget just what had been done to his subordinate. Another, knew that if he kept reading and re-reading those words, his anger would boil up to the point of lashing out at someone.

Instead, he sighed, folded up the paperwork, then stuffed it in his pocket.

"I'll hold on to it, but I promise I won't look at it for a while." In a normal situation, Mustang would've given Hawkeye the paperwork. However, with the description of Edward's rape listed as one of the abusive ways his body had been torn up - knowing that he was actually the only one from the team who was told about this - he felt it best to safeguard that knowledge.

"I think I'll go take a nap in the waiting room." He decided. Riza Hawkeye saluted him, and he her, before heading to a couch that sounded more and more welcoming.

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 **And there you have it folks... the last half of Chapter 11! xD Tell me what you think! Tell me what you'd like to see in the future! Read and Review and I will do my absolute best to not disappoint!**

 **FYI: I will have the next chapter up in 2 weeks time. Hopefully quicker than that. After all, you guys deserve it! :D**

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 _ **Now... here is an OMAKE. The very tidbit of writing that I cut out completely because it gave me so much trouble that I hated it. This is what never made the final cut.**_

"Unfortunately, Edward needs to have surgery. Too many lacerations and meddling happened near his ports, and we need to go in and fix them up." It was a poor choice of words the doctor had chosen. Ed immediately began his struggling anew, except this time yelling for his younger brother.

"Alphonse! Please Alphonse, please help me! Don't let them do this! Make them stop! I… I…" The healthy occupants of the room held him down, the nurse with the sedative backing away from the alchemist, taking the now empty needle with.

"It's okay, Brother. You're safe now. You're going to be okay." Al's armor shook, wishing so desperately that he could stop this pain and terror his nii-san was feeling. He wished he could cry, the emotion he felt was so overwhelming.

Edward panted, slowing his struggle, his rapt attention now fully focused on Alphonse.

"Is this real, Al? Are you real?" Tears trickled down Ed's face, mingling with blood from not yet healed wounds and streaking over his nose as the older alchemist looked at his younger brother. Alphonse looked on for only a moment, watching his brother slowly began to drift, and Alphonse nodded quickly seeing Ed's eyes begin to hang low, a sliver of hope cast within his being.

"Yes, brother. This is real. I'm real. I'll be here when you wake up. So will Colonel Mustang. We'll all be here." That was all he could say before Ed's eyes closed, unconsciousness finally overcoming him. Alphonse continued to watch while the nurses were able to calm themselves down, one giving comfort to the quivering and injured nurse, the others sighing in exasperation. He was shocked beyond belief. Shocked and also a little scared. Would Ed really be able to recover? How would they get through this?

Alphonse hardly registered the nurses carefully maneuvering Edward onto a roll-away bed. It wasn't until Mustang placed a hand on his shoulder that he zoned in to his surroundings. The only way Alphonse noticed the support was by the tiny echo it created.

"Don't worry, Alphonse. He'll pull through this. It may take awhile, but Fullmetal is strong... and stubborn. He'll be okay." It was a valiant effort to try and make Alphonse feel better, but sadly, Mustang's voice shaking was a dead giveaway that he was struggling to believe those words himself.

"Thanks, Colonel." Alphonse replied, tone of voice filled with a grateful sadness. He would have smiled if he could. Well… maybe not smiled, per say. Alphonse wasn't sure that he'd be able to muster the courage to do so even if he had his body back. Still, it was hard to not run after his brother as he watched the nurses taking him away to surgery.

-FMAB-

Edward woke to a throbbing headache and stiff body. The last thing he remembered… the last thing he remembered… dammit, I don't remember what happened! I just… I just remember… doctor's… his mind was hazy as he sifted through the painful throb, of which did nothing to curb his nausea. He gulped, feeling the dry itch in his throat; the lack of saliva. Was he sick?

A glance around the room told Ed that he was in the hospital room still. Whatever they had done to him had really set him back. The idea of moving felt too exhausting. Funny, how now was when he felt too exhausted to move. A quick look down at his body, however, helped him gage the status of his body. Bandages covered him tighter than before, restricting his movement, and he could feel panic welling inside at the thought of not getting to escape if he needed.

Resting his head against the pillow, Ed stared blankly at the ceiling. What he needed now was an action plan. A way to get himself out of the damned hospital and back with his brother. Alphonse.

However, Ed was startled out of his thoughts when the hospital door opened. None other than Havoc, harboring an unlit cigarette, walked into the room, a plateful of food balanced on one hand. The large grin he had on his face did little to calm Ed's nerves, so Ed settled to just watching him like a hawk. His eyes followed Havoc as the man shut the door, then sat down on the closest available chair near the bed. It wasn't that Ed didn't trust the man, it was just that his mere presence made Ed's heartbeat a little faster. Then, before Ed had a chance to really gain his bearings, the door opened once again and in shuffled Fuery, Breda, Hawkeye, and Mustang. Peeping out the door, Edward could see that Falman and Alphonse stood outside, peering in. Feeling too embarrassed, he shot his gaze downward, staring blankly at his bandages.

"You didn't have to come." He muttered, coming to the realization that he had been thinking he was still captured. How long would that last? How could he forget so quickly? Edward may not know the first thing about helping a women through childbirth, but he knew he wasn't ignorant. He wasn't called a prodigy alchemist for no reason. So why was it that he kept thinking he wasn't safe? No, he knew the reasons, he simply couldn't acknowledge them.

"Nonsense, Edward. We wanted to be here." Came the Hawk's reply, a sad smile upon her face.


	14. Chapter 12 Part 1

**Hey guys! I have been super bad at getting things posted lately, haven't I? I'm sorry about that! I got a new job and it feels like all I have time for is work and sleep these days xD So... here is part 1 of chapter 12! I didn't want to hold it back from all my lovely readers/reviewers any longer than necessary. Thank you so much to bookwormbored, Kas3y, and 9burials for your reviews! No joke, they just make my heart flutter. And for all who have favorited and followed... you freaking rock just as much :D anyway, on to the story!**

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 _T_ _he smell of death and decay, almost sour, like spoiled milk, filled his nose. It mingled grossly with the smell of iron. So strong he could very nearly taste it. Though he couldn't see anything in the darkness, Ed could certainly feel the warm gooey liquid on his flesh leg. As if he was standing in a small lake right up to his knees._

 _Something bumped into his leg, and when Ed glanced down, he could see the clouded eyes of the black cat, glinting up at him. The unnatural light that shone from those eyes did nothing to squash the sight of its innards, oozing from the sophisticated slice that ran down its stomach. Its painful screeches echoed in the darkness, and anxiety twisted in the pit of Ed's stomach, his heart squeezing so tight he couldn't breathe properly. The desire to gag lurched in his throat._

 _Unable to handle the sight of such an innocent creature, Ed hunched over, pressing his palms to his ears, screaming to block out the piercing screeches of the homely animal. Only, it was as if he could suddenly, physically feel the the burning pain himself; and when he opened his eyes, he was no longer in a hunched position, but flat on his stomach, flesh hand and foot nailed to the blackness from each individual digit. The burning sensation growing to an unbearable degree._

 _This time, his screams became panicked; terrified. There was no way to get away. To flee from this horror that became his life. He struggled, desperate. What could he do, trapped against this blackness?_

Ed startled awake to find that he was screaming in bloodcurdling agony, his teeth clenched so hard his his face and jaw hurt. He found that he had also been pressing himself so arduously against the bed that releasing his position irritated his healing wounds. The desire to itch flared in the back of his mind.

A nurse flooded the room in response to the now quiet alchemist and rushed to the rapidly beeping monitor. Alphonse, who had been in Ed's hospital room almost constantly, stood close by, an arm falling back to his side.

"Brother! I'm so glad you woke up. I was afraid you'd never wake up from that nightmare." Relief was evident in his voice as the nurse checked up on Edward, frowning at his distress.

"Nightmare?" Waking up so fast, the memory of his dream faded, and all Ed could remember was the terror rising in his chest. Beads of sweat cascaded down his forehead, scarcely noting how natural it became for him to shy away from a womans touch. The female nurse wrote a quick note down before her soft gaze looked over him, a sympathetic smile gracing her lips.

"Sorry sweetie. I'm going to need you to drink some more water. You're still dehydrated. I'll also bring you in some plain rice. Better for your stomach." She winked at him as she hung the clipboard up on a tack nearby the door before she left, supposedly going to grab a cup of water for him to drink as his previous cup was empty.

"You've had a lot of those lately…" Alphonse said quietly, picking up their conversation.

"I guess." Ed glanced away, unable to keep eye contact. They sat in silence for a minute longer.

"Colonel Mustang said they want you to go to therapy."

" _No Way_." He said, viciously. There was absolutely no way he would be able to freaking _talk_ about what had happened to him. He could barely stand to even think about it.

"Nii-san…" Alphonse sighed. Ed internally cringed at the sound, hardly able to stand the idea that he was disappointing his brother. Ugh... he was so pathetic. Barely even able to tolerate contact of any kind, and now he had no way of consoling his brother when it was obvious that he, himself, wasn't okay. Some big brother he turned out to be.

"Look… I just… I just need some time before that can happen, okay?" The reasoning seemed sound to Ed. Alphonse took his time speaking up.

"You know that they're going to want you to go while you're in the hospital. Colonel Mustang already gave the okay for you go attend some sessions."

"What?" Ed whipped his eyes towards the red soul's of Al's as fast as a hawk, widening in surprise. "Y-you're joking. Please t-tell me you're joking!"

"I wish I could. But you know… it might be good for you, brother."

"How can you say that, Al?" Ed whaled, not quite able to keep the sound of betrayal out of his voice.

"It's just… I… well…" Alphonse stared down at the bed sheets, unsure how to respond. Ed stared him down, wanting to know his younger brother's deepest inner thoughts about this. It took a lot for Alphonse to not be on the same side as him. Usually they thought the same on every subject. Why not this one, too? The very idea of having to talk caused a small tremble, and Ed hid his bandaged hand under the cover so Alphonse didn't notice. He looked away, anxiously clenching his jaw.

It didn't matter if he was a wake or not. Memories flashed too frequently in his mind. Nothing saved him from the horror's he'd experienced. He hated himself for being so scared. He'd been through kidnappings before. Some had even threatened to hurt him to the same extent that this damnable copy cat had done. Ed had even gone through some mandatory trainings that explained how you should be if you were ever tortured for military information. So why was it that he couldn't contain his fright?

The door opened once again and the petite nurse set a glass of water with a straw and plain rice on the tray for him to use at his disposal.

"I expect you to eat that rice, Edward. You need to build up your endurance for solid foods." She eyed Ed with a playful calculation, before smiling and leaving the room. Ed warily watched her leave. What would she do to him if he didn't eat it?

"I can help you eat that if you want, brother." Alphonse offered, grabbing a seat to sit close by.

"I already told you. I'm not a child. I can eat this without help." Ed glared at the plain rice. Unbidden anguish coursed through him, and Ed couldn't stop the trembling of his bottom lip; the slight burn of his nose or the oncoming flourish of tears. They never did fall, but it took all of his will-power to stop the emotion.

"I wasn't suggesting that you are. I just… I want to be of help. You trust me enough to allow that, don't you?" The strain in the air was thick. Ed was sure he could swim through it if he so desired, and it was his fault that it was there in the first place. A sharp pang tore through his heart at the desperate hope in Alphonse's voice. Edward glanced at the rice, and the plastic spoon next to it, waiting to be used. The thought of having to pick up that spoon really wasn't that appealing. His hand still ached, and he had yet to be able to stretch his fingers to their full capacity. Even the thought of it made him quiver.

Still, he felt hesitant. After all, the last time he had to be fed, he was given drugs. Both in the hospital and by his captors. He didn't want that to happen again. It wasn't that he didn't trust Alphonse, because he most definitely _did._ It was just that he wasn't sure he could trust the nurses. They were always sneaky like that. Particularly this last time, soon after receiving that awful injection. He shivered at the memory, doing his damndest to keep other memories from surfacing.

"I do trust you, Al," he finally said, slowly, "you know I do."

"Then will you let me help you? At least until it doesn't hurt so much to do it yourself?" Ed bit his lip, gazing at the shoulders of Alphonse's armor, then back at the rice. Flashes burned through his mind, of degrading, and demeaning comments followed by being force fed. They made him hesitate.

Swallowing the humiliation, Edward finally gulped a hard lump, the subservient nod of his head all the encouragement Alphonse needed.

Ed watched, guarded, as Alphonse brought the spoon towards him.

 _Go on, Little Eddy. Eat up!_ Karly's voice sneared.

 _Surely it's like feeding candy to a baby, wouldn't you say?_ Macabé's giggle; his incessant need to move all too irritating

 _A manicured nail traced the edge of his jaw, a smirk on her face, "these disgusting lips need to feed his little tummy." She licked the yogurt (a treat, for being so delightfully_ good _) only to smash her lips against his, forcing him to swallow. Her hands possessively rubbing his chest._

 _Yeah boy._ Macabé's voice, dripping with lust. _Taste it. Taste it. TASTE IT!_ Anger and humiliation washed over Edward and by the third spoonful of rice, he could feel the queasy churning in his stomach. Perspiration gathered on his brow and Edward had to finally turn away before he threw up the small amount he had consumed.

"Sorry, Al." He spoke quietly, "I-I can't. I'm sorry." His eyes were squeezed tightly; breathing quick, short breaths. Alphonse had been in the process of bringing up another spoonful of the rice, but at Edwards insistence, lowered the substance back into the bowl.

"It's okay, Brother. You don't need to apologize." They were both quiet for a moment. Edward was doing his best to put thoughts of science into his brain, allowing the periodic table to squelch the noise. "Did you want me to bring you something to read? I'm sure I could grab an alchemy book from the library." The fact that Alphonse had changed the subject hadn't gone unnoticed; and for a brief second, Ed considered the sanity of any God that would've allowed him to have someone like Al in his life. Didn't seem fair that someone like Alphonse would be stuck with a failure like him. Then it registered what Al had said.

"Ah, sure Al." Though he was sure his eyes said _no, don't leave me by myself_. It was a silent, contradictory plea. He felt guilty even thinking it. "No use wasting my time while sitting in a bed all day, eh?" The humor fell flat on both their ears, flesh and otherwise.

"Don't worry, Brother. I'll send someone in from Colonel Mustang's team so you're not alone." Alphonse hesitated at the door, and Edward nearly said nevermind. He willed himself to calm down so that the heart monitor didn't give him away. After a second longer, Alphonse left, and Edward could feel his panic rising. He didn't want to be alone. He didn't want to be left with just his thoughts. That led to dangerous places. He hadn't been this afraid to even think since right after he had performed human transmutation. For a long time after that, he dreamt that he never was able to save Alphonse, and that he was left alone in the world. Left to die from bleeding out. Left to suffer in the darkness for a heinous sin he'd committed. Left with the guilt that he'd done this to his brother.

Well, actually he still carried around that guilt. One of the reasons he pursued the philosopher's stone so ardently was because he couldn't bare the thought that Alphonse would never experience being human ever again, all because he'd had one idea that had never worked before. However, considering the events that had happened to him, Edward wasn't inclined to think that being alive and having to live through something like this was worth it. Ch. Some big brother he was.

The hospital door opened, surprising Ed out of his dark thoughts. He was rewarded with the sight of none other than Havoc, who smiled cheekily at Edward as he closed the door behind him.

"Hey there, Chief! It's nice to see you awake." The man strode in confidently, a cheeky smile gracing his lips. He sat in the chair next to Ed's bed, taking no notice of how still Ed had become. The young alchemist stared at the militant, shocked at his casual stride, nearly forgetting to say something.

"Uuuh…" came his eloquent response.

"The last time I saw you chief, you were still sleeping. Nice to see you have eyes." He leaned back against the chair with a smile on his face, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a deck of cards. "You wanna play?"

"Play what?" Ed eyed the deck, his tentative gaze falling on the ware and tare of the cards. Really, Ed had no reason to hesitate. He'd seen Havoc playing cards all the time back in the office. What difference did it make for him to be the opponent?

"How about a round of blackjack?"

"I have no idea how to play that." Ed deadpanned.

"That's alright." Havoc said, pleasantly, "I'll teach you! It's not a very difficult game."

"I won't be able to hold any cards…" Havoc's smile dimmed briefly, his eyes glancing at the visible bandages.

"Don't worry, chief. This isn't that kind of game."

Slowly, as Havoc taught Ed the rules of the game, Ed allowed himself to relax a little, letting his mind wander into a blissful nothingness that was the game. Well, Ed couldn't lie to himself. There was some part in the back of his mind that never fully lost the thought that this was all in his head, that he'd wake up to his nightmare soon; but it stayed in the back, far away from that blessed thought process that focused solely on how to win the game. It was the greatest relief he'd had in a long time.

* * *

"You did _what!_ " Ed screeched, ignoring the scratchy quail that screamed an oncoming cold.

"Winry is on the first train to Central. We need to do surgery on your arm, and get your autmail working as soon as possible, otherwise it could lead to dangerous consequences." Mustang looked completely unapologetic. "Besides, I already talked to you about this."

"That wasn't for you to decide!" And honestly, Ed had completely forgotten the conversation. Had he really agreed? No… no, he vaguely remembered his obstinate response of "fine" clearly stating how _not okay_ he was with the idea.

"Well what did you want me to do?" Mustang growled, the burning look almost searing through Edward. He wilted at the stare, a part of him preparing for a strike across his face, or a kick against his shin.

He dared not bring his eyes to Mustang's for his insolence, though not quite able to subdue his defiance. "At least give me the choice of _when_!" Because Edward was absolutely certain that he couldn't face her. Not yet. _Not yet._ His heart clenched at the thought.

"Edward, I don't think you understand the severity of your situation-"

"Don't you dare tell me that I don't understand!" Edward seethed, eyes raging up at Mustang. He bit back in shock at himself, but nevertheless carried on, "don't tell me I don't understand what I've been through and what it's done to me." His glare towards his commanding officer was brief, but ruthless. How could Mustang say such a thing to him? He suddenly regretted ever trusting the man. After all, someone as strong as Mustang could do what he wanted to Ed, and Ed would have to take it. His brow furrowed at the thought. Things were so muddled in his brain. Images flashed through his memory, seeing the figure of the colonel, grinning evilly, even as he held up a scalpel close to Ed's arm. Yet logically, Ed _knew_ that that wasn't his superior doing those things to him. Ed was hard-pressed to admit that his memory and the man standing before him were not actually one and the same.

Mustang sighed, and Ed could see his struggle to form his next thought. Surprisingly, the man sat down in the nearest chair available, rubbing his face tiredly. Ed guiltily looked at his lap, knowing it was because of him that his superior was so exhausted.

"Alphonse, will you give your brother and I a minute?" Alphonse, who had been standing close to Edward, jumped when his name was called. His obvious reluctance to leave weighing thick in the air.

"Sure, Colonel Mustang." He finally spoke.

 _Traitor_ Ed thought, as he watched his brother leave, the sound of the armor dulling with the closing of the door. In a way, though, Ed was able to make a confession without showing any weakness (well, intentionally, anyway) to Alphonse. Without looking directly at Mustang, Ed thought carefully what he wanted to say.

"I… I don't want Winry to see me like this…" he finally, quietly submitted. Though he wasn't sure if he actually spoke loud enough for Mustang to hear.

"I know." Mustang paused, "but it needs to be done, Fullmetal. The infections you could get if this isn't fixed could be fatal to you." Ed but his lip, unable to suppress his worry. Things were happening too fast.

"You don't understand, Mustang! I… I don't think I... It's just… too soon." His whole body shook at the mere thought of feeling the grind of metal on metal, of the vibrations that would jar his insides. Of the pin prick of needles on his skin. Of the feeling of helplessness.

All was quiet, and Edward could feel the observant stare Mustang was giving him. He dared not look up, feeling like his emotions were all over the place.

Another sigh came from the man, and Ed internally cringed and fidgeted, unsure what he should be doing in the face of his confession. Whatever he was expecting, though, it wasn't the intense stare that Mustang was now giving him. He shied away from the look, unsure what to think.

"You're right." Ed looked up in surprise at his superior, " I don't really understand what you're going through. "But I know what the doctor's have told me, and I know for a fact that they are good at their jobs. What with how often you've had to come here." He muttered that last bit, but Edward heard. He supposed it was true, but it didn't mean he had to like it. "Believe it or not, Edward, I really am trying to do what's in your best interest."

Ed's eyes flashed, "yeah sure. If ya did, you wouldn't have called Winry so quickly," he huffed, grumbling to the blankets covering him.

"Well… it's not the first time I've had to make a hard decision for one of my subordinates." Ed deflated at the sentence. That was probably true. Mustang seemed to believe and care for his team in a way that Ed never witnessed in others. Friendship he'd witnessed, sure. Hughes was a large example of that, but to go so far as to take the "father" roll for those under his supervision? No one that Ed had come across had that sense of responsibility. Well, no he had to amend that statement. No one that wasn't friends with Mustang was treated like that in any form or fashion. That was reserved for those whom had Mustang's trust.

Even so. That didn't mean Ed had to like it.

"Also… there's one more thing I should let you know." Ed glanced warily at his commanding officer, instantly on edge at what was about to be said, "I know that you're terrified to see Winry. So, because of this, I have arranged for your first therapy session to happen before then."

Shocked, Ed could feel his jaw drop. He remembered from that earlier conversation that Mustang had mentioned he'd need to go to therapy, he just… wasn't expecting it so soon. His heart thumped wildly in his chest, amplified by the heart monitor.

Mustangs eyes gravitated towards the machine briefly, the frown on his face seemingly permanent. Ed hardly noticed though. His mind whirled with thoughts of intentionally talking about his nightmare. No… he couldn't do it. No way! There was no way he'd _ever_ tell _anybody_ what he went through. It was a horror in and of itself! He couldn't bring someone else into that vile, horrific hell.

 _Mou, little Eddy._ The feminine voice purred in his mind. Tingled his hears as if she were present. Ed squeezed his eyes shut, hoping in vain to squash the sound. _Disgusting whores like you need to learn discipline. You need to know your_ place.

Ed whimpered, only to find his throat constricted. The action elicited a panicked attempt to breathe, but unable to fulfil his need. Unconsciously, he frantically scratched at his throat, hardly noticing the pain and restricted mobility of his fingers.

In the midst of his panic, Ed realized he couldn't see, and without his ability to see, how was he to escape? How would he make it back to Alphonse? No… _no!_ He wouldn't let them win! He had to breathe, dammit! He couldn't let them get the better of him just because of some measley fear. The absurdity of that thought would have made him laugh had he not been terrified of choking to death.

Then he heard it.

"Brother!" The metallic voice was so sharp and clear, that Ed snapped his eyes open, only then realizing he'd clenched them closed and thought he was in the darkness. Only then did he realize that, staring so intently at Alphonse, he nearly forgot he had panicked; that his throat had closed up and restricted his air intake. He coughed and hacked, before he felt something shoved onto his face. With a start, he realized that a nurse had rushed in and placed an oxygen max over his head. Despite his trembling, Ed noticed a difference immediately, falling back onto the bed and gulping in air. The nurse jotted some stuff down on her clipboard, her pitying gaze nearly searing through him. He withered at her stare.

"Brother! Are you okay?" He gave a nigh imperceptible nod towards his younger brother, focusing his gaze on the comforting sight.

"Dammit Edward, you're going to be the death of me, you know that?" He heard Mustang mumble as the man fell back into his seat.

"I never said-" cough, wince "-I'd go quietly," he mused, astutely aware that he had lost his sense of surroundings once more. Why had he lost it, again? He struggled to remember.

"Clearly," Ed could hear the smirk oozing from the word and he internally rolled his eyes. The man was obviously arrogant in his assumption. Was Edward that translucent? Well, whatever. He couldn't get himself to care too much at the moment.

"You really need to rest," The nurse spoke up, spooking Edward. He'd forgotten she was nearby. He glanced at her as she glared at Mustang and his brother. He furrowed his brow. That wasn't really fair to be getting mad at his brother. It's not like it was his fault. Now, Mustang, on the other hand…

"Forgive me." Mustang replied, though Ed wasn't sure if he was talking to her or him. Either way, the man stood up and walked towards the door. "I'll be back later today, Edward." The words came out like a warning and Ed's eyes widened. That's right. The bastard was going to make him do something he didn't want to do. Wasn't that against the law or something? His eyes watched the door close, contemplating laws and whether or not he could cry wolf.

"Mr. Elric needs to get some rest," the nurse smiled sympathetically towards the armored boy, who hadn't moved since Mustang spoke. Edward whipped his head towards the nurse, wincing when his entire body was held privy to the movement.

"No!" He nearly yelled, if only his throat wasn't sore, "he… he can stay." He gulped and stared the nurse down. There was no way he'd let Alphonse leave his presence. He didn't want to be alone. Not yet. The nurse watched him carefully, eyes searching. For what he couldn't say, nor did he care. As long as Alphonse didn't leave the room. He'd had enough of that. After what felt like forever, the nurse finally nodded.

"Alright. He can stay." relief flooded Ed's eyes, " _as long as_ you get some rest, Mr. Elric." his eyes twitched at the comment, but nevertheless his head bobbed in affirmation.

None too soon, as promised, Mustang came for him. Edward had nearly forgotten what was to go on that day, as he had been chatting and reading with Alphonse. Previously, Al had brought several alchemy books, and one indulgent fantasy. At least, it felt like a fantasy. The happy-go-lucky attitude of the main character seemed too surreal to Edward to be realistic. However, as much as Edward knew he needed to focus on alchemy (because Alphonse deserved to have a body of flesh and bone, like, right then) he couldn't help but feel grateful to him. The story distracted Ed enough to forget for a short time what had happened to him. At least, it pushed the thoughts away from the forefront of his mind, anyway, and that was good enough for him.

The flimsy distraction dashed once Mustang made his appearance rolling in a wheelchair, looking determinedly at Edward. The instant Ed saw his face, his whole body trembled. There was no way… he couldn't do it. He couldn't _talk_ about this. Especially not to someone who knew nothing of his situation. The second Mustang walked close to him, Ed flinched into the bed.

"Don't you dare touch me," He growled witch such vehemence that it surprised even himself. He hadn't spoken like that since- well. It was just something he hadn't done to the Colonel Bastard before. What if his subconscious was trying to tell him something? What if he had actually been hallucinating this entire time? What if he was being taken to his doom? That this was the final straw before he was killed, never to actually see his brother again? Then, that ting that could not be copied echoed softly in the small room and Ed's head whipped quickly towards his younger brother.

"Please, Nii-san," came Alphonse's quiet plea, "please go with Colonel Mustang." Ed watched him, and he just knew that his eyes looked as frightened as he felt. But he trusted Alphonse; and despite how he'd just acted towards his commanding officer, Edward trusted the Bastard as well.

He bit his lip, head turning before his eyes followed to take a look at Mustang. The man had stilled his movement before he could make it any closer to Ed. Something flashed in his eyes and was gone before Ed could determine what the look was about.

"C'mon Ed," He said quietly, "It's time to go." Though his voice was soft, there was no room for argument. Steeling himself for what was to come, Edward closed his eyes and nodded.

"I'm going to pick you up and set you into the wheelchair, alright?" Despite the warning, Ed still jumped when he felt Mustang lift him up off the bed, an arm under his legs, and the other behind his back. The arm scrubbed against the wounds on his back, though the pain he had been expecting didn't occur. Perhaps they'd actually been allowed to heal. That was a strange thought. What felt more strange to him was that he'd been in the hospital plenty of times and his wounds healed as they do after time; yet, still he was surprised. It disturbed Ed that his perspective on something so simple could change so drastically.

The whole time, while Mustang pushed the wheelchair, Edward kept his head down. He couldn't bare to look at the pitying looks of those around him. Receiving them from his team was hard enough. He was definitely going to have to fix that. Somehow.

To distract himself from the inevitable, Ed watched the floor as they continued on, noticing the scuff marks that covered a small piece of the white square tiles and absently wondered how often they cleaned the floors; because it couldn't be that often if there was that many scuff marks still so visible. Then, they were at the doors and Edward couldn't think of anything else.

* * *

He sat very quietly on the metal seat, unable to control his tremors that raided rapidly through his blood stream. Too much about this situation felt a little too surreal and Ed didn't like it one bit. The psychologist across the room sat in his own chair, watching Ed thoroughly. Who knew the reason why; but every so often, Ed would hear a pen scribbling on a clipboard that sat on his lap.

Ed didn't want to be here. No… he felt very uncomfortable in the hospital gown in front of this grown man who could do who knew what to him; and what the hell could Ed do about it? Nothing. He was unable to stop Macabé, Karly, and Fake Edward, so why should he be able to stop this guy? Even though Ed knew somewhere in his brain that Mustang was on the other side of the door; even though he had boxers on underneath the hospital gown, he felt extremely uncomfortable and naked. He fisted the ends of the gown as tightly as he possibly could, trying to hold his breath steady, but failing. They'd been at this for barely fifteen minutes, yet neither of them had spoken a word. It wasn't until the psychologist accidentally dropped the pen onto the clipboard that Ed reacted. It happened so quickly that he felt stupid afterwards.

One minute, they were sitting on the chairs, one avoiding eye contact, the other watching with grave interest. The second the pen hit the clipboard, Ed gasped, abruptly stood, then immediately tripped backwards over the metal chair - largely due to the pain that the pressure onto his foot and automail brought as he stood. The other being the fact that Ed needed the use of a wheelchair to get anywhere. With an "oof" and a short agonizing cry, Edward shuffled against the wall of the room with his elbow, hardly caring how much effort and _pain_ that brought, curling up, bringing his metal leg close to his chest, wrapping his flesh arm underneath the crook of his knee. Ignoring the saline drip that had fallen over with him, Ed hid his face, body trembling.

"Edward," a voice carried through his mind, " _Ed_ ," it called again. As much as he has misgivings, Ed slowly looked up, almost certain that his dilated eyes weren't quite adjusted to the light yet. When a clear image of a concerned Roy Mustang was kneeled worriedly in front of Ed - an arm reaching out to help calm him, that was when Ed realized his mistake. He tried to laugh it off, swiping his bangs from his face, slowing his breathing. It was a meager attempt to disguise his reaction. No one was fooled.

"Alright Edward, I"m going to grab your arm to help you up. Is that okay?" Ed briefly looked up into his superior's gaze, internally kicking himself for feeling scared of what he would find. It had happened before… he'd looked up from his prison, thinking he saw Mustang, only to realize that the voice coming from him was not the same. He'd never actually hallucinated an entire room before, though.

Ed could feel his heartbeat thump inside his chest as he glanced at the proffered hand. He licked his lips, hesitating to accept. What if this was all in his mind? What if he was still in that basement? What if-

"Edward. It's okay. You're safe here." Mustang's gaze was intense, full of assurance. Ed felt inclined to scoff at the implication. Safe? What a fool he'd be if he actually believed that. There was no such thing as safe. However, the look in the Bastard's eye was so convincing, that Edward felt compelled to agree. _Well, here goes. This is it. If I succumb to this blasted weakness and find out I was wrong, well… fool me twice._

Edward finally gave his nod of consent and geared himself up for the inevitable. Mustang moved to action, scooping Edward up and placing him gently in the wheelchair. Ed, with eyes closed the whole time, dared not move. Even though he'd been set down, he couldn't bring himself to see what was in front of him, too terrified that it wouldn't be who he thought it was. And then, a hand softly caressed his head, despite Ed's initial recoil at the motion. Gathering the courage to look up, Edward opened his eyes to see that his mind had not fooled him. He was at the hospital, with concerned doctors and a very much troubled Colonel standing directly between him and the therapist.

"Edward," the disquiet eloquence of his name caused an immediate reaction. Ed couldn't _not_ look into the Bastard's eyes. The worry and fatigue were evident, as was the urge to trust in him. His heart fluttered, feeling a sense of parental ease he hadn't felt since his mother had shared her last smile with him.

After finding what he was looking for in Ed's eyes, Mustang slowly backed away, allowing Ed's vision be filled with the bright lights and therapist sitting on the other side of the table. His eyes widened at the sight and instantly he whipped his head towards his commanding officer, feeling suddenly betrayed, until he realized the man had no intentions of leaving the room that time. Ed wouldn't admit until a far later date how relieved he felt to know that the Bastard cared enough to stay. Because what a ridiculously odd thought, right?

Slowly, his head turned, gazing uncertainly towards the therapist, who looked between him and Mustang for a moment. Ed didn't like it. Didn't like the pitying look in the man's eyes. He was Edward Elric, damn it all! No one should dare look at him like he needed to be pitied. Except, Edward didn't feel like the Fullmetal Alchemist at all. In fact, he felt like curling up and hiding from the world, just like that blasted Eddy would do. Damnable creature that he was. At the thought, Ed hardly noticed his subtle, unconscious hunch into the chair, as if the very action of doing so would, indeed, hide him from the world.

With the realization that he had done just as his alternate self would do, Ed found in that moment that he couldn't care less. What did it matter? What was he except some broken, abused, hardly worth the help person that could barely function in a hospital. Simultaneously, he clenched his jaw and flesh hand, glaring at the ludicrous bandage that covered the whole of his arm. If he were stronger; if he had been a better alchemist, he wouldn't be here, needing to talk to someone. He wouldn't feel his heart pound in terror at the mere thought of someone so much as touching him. How was he ever going to overcome this? How would he ever be able to tell Al that he couldn't handle it any longer. What would his brother do if he decided to end it all?

 _Oh come, now, my little alchemy bitch. You dare look away from something so beautiful?_ The silky words pestered his brain. A sickening pit knotted within him and he felt bile rising at the very thought. Smutty, lewd, _vile,_ wanton images bombarded his thoughts and Ed slowly, deliberately, brought his legs to his chest, sparsely registering the pain his motion caused. He felt his head bump his battered knees, now covered up in the white bandages of the hospital, whimpering quietly. He would not cry. He _would not cry._

"Edward," His mind scarcely noticed, "Edward, can you tell me what's going on? What are you seeing? What are you feeling?" The voice was unrecognizable. Ed immediately felt distrust. How could he be expected to speak of such evil? Hell no.

Emphatically, he shook his head. Hell no would he _ever_ speak of what he went through. They couldn't make him. Not unless… unless…

A loud sigh broke the silence amidst Ed's whimpering. Low voices rumbled in the room, and then a sudden movement made him feel nauseous. His eyes blurred as he opened them, only to see the floor of the hospital tile moving swiftly in his vision. His heart clenched. He probably made the Bastard angry with his silence.

No word was said as the entered his hospital room, and Edward dared not look into his commanding officer's eyes. He couldn't bare the look of disappointment and anger he'd see there. Not this time. Sure, Ed had done many things to warrant the look, but that was before. Before his very being was torn in two. Before he was hardly able to muster the courage to fight back.

Mustang came to stand in front of Edward, who tried to look away. It was no use. His breath quickened, and his eyes froze, briefly noting his expectancy for a slap to the face, or a needle jammed into his thigh. Mustang's coal black eyes stared into his golden ones and Edward wasn't sure what the man wanted from him. With eyebrows knit together, the man finally spoke, and Ed tucked his chin to his chest.

"Hey, Fullmetal." When Edward gave no response (because really, who would raise their head when their heart was going like a million miles an hour?) Even so, a finger lifted his head so their eyes could meet. "It's okay, Edward. The room was so small, even I was getting claustrophobia."

The wisecrack was so unexpected that Ed's retort came swiftly. "Are you calling me short!?" His nostrils flared as he lashed out, immediately hissing as his back straightened and pulled at the scabs littered there. For a moment he had forgotten himself, and Ed was surprised when no consequence came for his outburst. Had he really grown accustomed to such abuse so quickly? He'd never been hit by his commanding officer before, so why would he worry about that now? Still, the saddened smirk on Mustang's face said it all, and Edward felt his cheeks sting with heat. Of all times for the idiot Colonel to-

"In all seriousness, it really is okay, Fullmetal. Going to see someone about what you've been through is the first step. It takes time."

 _Yeah, only if you plan on talking about it_ Ed's mind rebelled. Anger flashed in his eyes and he lifted his chin a little higher.

"Don't act like you get it, Bastard." He grumbled quietly, staring at a point on his meticulously made hospital bed.

"You're right." Mustang replied, softly, "I don't know what you went through. But I do know what it's like to have to work up the courage to talk to someone." Though Edward avoided the man's eyes, he was watching him from the corners of his own. "You forget, Fullmetal, that I've been through some horrors myself. Ishval was no walk in the park. Without therapy, I doubt I'd be your Colonel here, today."

This time, Edward did look up at Mustang. Though he said nothing those words definitely rang something within him. When he said nothing, Mustang sighed and made the motions to place Edward back on the bed.

* * *

 **Here's the end of part 1 of Chapter 12! :D Now I have a few questions. What are you all hoping to see in the interactions between Edward and everyone else? What scenario's would you look forward to? What kind of fluff would you enjoy reading about? :D**

 **Thank you so much! And as always... please read and review because... well... ya know. xD**


	15. Chapter 12 Part 2

Mustang closed the door behind a finally sleeping alchemist, sighing once more as he did so. That therapy session had not gone on the way he'd hoped. Granted, he shouldn't have expected anything less than what he'd gotten. Edward was far too traumatized to give away any information. Mustang had hoped, at least, that the kid would talk about it; if only a little. Lift the burden that was obviously weighing on him. The alchemist was almost stubborn to a fault though. Mustang didn't hold it against him, however, as he pulled out a well-read piece of paper. Its content angered him to a point that he wanted to burn something every time he looked at the list.

Crumpling it up in his fist, Mustang walked stiffly down the hallway, hardly seeing the looks of the nurses he passed by. Whether they be dreamy, terrified or glowering, he paid no mind, thinking only of the pissant who was going to pay for what he'd done to Edward.

"How'd it go, Boss?" Jean Havoc inquired the moment Mustang stepped into the waiting area. His entire team was taking shifts, bringing Mustang paperwork that needed to be done each day, since not all of them could continuously stay throughout when work needed to be sifted through. Time did not stop just because one man in the military was hospitalized. If Mustang didn't give a damn about his end goal, he'd simply say "screw it" and never think of anything but helping his subordinate get better. Damn long-term priorities interfering with what he wanted to focus on in the moment!

He scoffed.

"As well as could be expected." He grumbled, shuffling his hands into the pockets of his military uniform. Havoc looked as if he was going to say more, frowning in the direction of Edwards room, before he grunted himself.

"There's not much we can do right now. Just hope Fullmetal recovers without any hiccups."

"How long do you propose that'll be?" Mustang quipped, irritated by the statement. Havoc's concerned gaze drifted once more to his commanding officer's, calculating.

"The Chief isn't a number we can write off on a piece of paper, Boss."

"I know that!" Mustang growled, his irritation growing further. Havoc studied the staut way Mustang held himself and Mustang felt irritatingly on display. He clenched his jaw, his fists, feeling the nails bite into his skin like a knife easing a slice into a piece of meat. Perhaps he should have left his gloves on. "Dammit!" he cursed quietly, feeling so on edge he was even childishly grumbling to a fellow member of his team. A tiny moment passed in silence; Mustang rearing to gain control of his flubbing anger, while Havoc chewed on an unlit cigarette.

"Sorry," He finally replied, feeling defeated and emotionally exhausted. Havoc simply shrugged.

"Well, it's understandable. Frustration comes when you can't force someone to do what you want."

"No kidding." Mustang sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I can't even begin to describe how utterly debilitating it is to sit on the outside, knowing that there is absolutely _nothing_ I can do for him." He quipped with a short, un-amused laugh, "honestly, I was just hoping that it would make things easier for Fullmetal. Considering how terrified he seems at the mere mention of his mechanic appearing to fix him up."

"Not that she isn't terrifying in her own right, eh?" Came Havoc's attempted humor. Mustang smirked, softly. As much as that contradiction could be said.

"Ain't that the truth." Finally taking a seat on the uncomfortable couch, Mustang leaned his head back against the wall, taking the time to rest his tired eyes; no doubt bloodshot from lack of sleep. Who knew that a little runt like Edward could cause such ridiculous anxiety! Havoc took a seat next to him, a large groaning sigh escaping as he did so.

"Fullmetal really is a strong kid, though, Colonel. He's been through hell and back. He won't let something like this break him."

"You didn't see him when I found him," Mustang growled, darkly, the quiet, thin tone of his voice expressing his rage at the memory. Havoc glanced at him, contemplating the response.

"I definitely remember the bloody mess he was in when you brought him up those stairs." Havoc took a deep breath, "but despite this new hell he's suffered through… the chief is stubborn. Edward never goes down easy, and I can bet that he won't let this take him down, either."

"You seem rather confident," Mustang said, archly, peeking an eye over at his subordinate. An interesting look passed over Havoc and if Mustang was any less exhausted from trying to find out the inner workings of members of his team, he'd inquire about the look. Perhaps at a later date.

"Yeah," Havoc muttered, massaging his temple, "I really do believe that Edward can come out of this. It'll just take some time." He took the unlit cigarette out of his mouth, staring at its nub, lost in thought. Mustang, too, closed his eyes, wondering when the clenching of his heart would go away. Perhaps he should go back to therapy himself. Never did he think he'd need the use of someone's expertise to help him through a crisis once more, until now. However, the more he thought about it, the more he realized how deeply involved Hughes had been in his life at that time. That Hughes was the one that Mustang would talk to during those sessions that he couldn't deal with.

Hm.

Who would work as his new Hughes-

"I heard about Edward Elric!" A booming voice smashed into the waiting room, along with its owner - none other than Alex Louis Armstrong. Mustang gazed incredulous at the man. "That poor boy! Perhaps I could go and help the boy out by sharing the excellence of my muscles! That always helped him recover in the past." By this point, the alchemist had stripped off his shirt and boasted in his muscles, and Mustang could've sworn he saw stars as the man talked.

"What are the flowers for?" Havoc piped up, amusement fixed where concern had once been.

"Why, Mr. Elric, of course. One should have a shred of joy in this dastardly place."

He placed the flowers on a side table, quickly clothing his upper torso. The eccentric man always had a knack of cheering people up, even in their horror, and somehow no one thought to ridicule the man for his manner. Not even Edward. Mustang sat on the edge of his seat, wondering if now would be the best time for a man like Armstrong to show his face. Not that he really dictated which visitor's could come and go. Well, he could always put in a command, but how stupid would that be?

Hm.

Well, there was only one way to find out if this was a bad idea or not.

"I think it would be… refreshing, if you went in and spoke with Edward."

Havoc simply raised an eyebrow before leaning back on the couch and placing the unlit cigarette back in his mouth.

"Excellent!" Armstrong chimed, "I'll be on my way!"

"Wait!" He tried calling back to the man, wanting to explain that he needed to tread carefully. Armstrong was gone long before Mustang had a chance to; and so, for a moment, Mustang lay back, closing his eyes while wondering if he should intercept the man, until he heard a scream. Edward's, to be precise. He should have known! It was much too soon to let Armstrong into Ed's room, as boisterous and confident as the man was. He was up and in Edward's room as fast as a bullet. Only to stop short in his tracks, blinking at the scene. Edward, eyes wide, was plastered to the headboard wall, watching, calculating, at that alchemist now bowing on the ground, tears streaming in his wails. Alphonse stood between the two, his stance hesitant but protective.

"I'm so sorry, Edward Elric! Such sorrowful things you've been through! Such brilliance and confidence you've shown in the face of your enemy and here I am, scaring you. Please, forgive me!" All this could be heard even before Mustang ran in. He cleared his throat and both alchemists turned at the noise.

"Am I interrupting?" He asked, finding small amusement in the scene, but worry taking the top feature to grace his face.

"I was just about to explain to Edward, here, that my strongest muscle is my heart!" He turned his body once more toward the scared alchemist, who watched with obvious hesitance. "Please allow me to exercise it for you today!"

"Uuuh," Was Edward's eloquent response. Often as they had been recently. Mustang cleared his throat once more.

"Did you have a chance to explain the flowers?" Armstrong glanced down at the bouquet in his hand, some of the petals had fallen off, but their delight was still intact.

"I brought these for you, young Edward Elric! Perhaps the flowers will brighten your dismal room, such as hospitals are." He placed them in a vase that had been brought in at a previous time, taking the time to remove the dead flowers and refill the vase with water.

"Th-thanks," Edward finally unstuck himself from the wall, taking careful movements to set himself in a more comfortable position, all the while keeping a stern watch on the buoyant alchemist. Mustang took care to not get too close, allowing the boy to gather his bearings.

There was an awkward silence, Edward, unable to keep his head up, soon cast his gaze at his wrapped hand. Armstrong watching him, and Alphonse looking so out of place it made Mustang's heart sting a little, all the while glancing between the two older alchemists.

"Well," he looked at his pocket watch, "it's about time to go and pick up Winry… Major Armstrong, would you be willing to pick Ms. Rockbell up?"

"Oh yes! Of course!" The Major shuffled towards Mustang, who didn't miss the scowl Edward gave, turning once more to Ed, "so long, Edward Elric! Until we meet again!"

The man left, and Mustang sighed in relief to have that situation resolved. However his peace didn't last long.

"I told you I didn't want Winry to come, yet!" The young alchemist kept his head down, but Mustang could clearly see the effort it cost Edward to spout the sentence. Whether in fear or anger, he couldn't quite place.

"If we had any other choice, Edward, I would gladly follow your request-"

"Demand!"

"-but as it is, with such high risk of infection, we couldn't procrastinate her presence." The frown he held seemed to be plastered so long on his face, Mustang swore that he could feel it deepening that very minute. He walked further into the room as he spoke.

"I don't give a damn about a stupid infection!" Edward muttered, still keeping his face downcast.

"You care about staying alive, don't you?" Mustang retorted, growing more irate at Ed's continuous disregard for his own wellbeing as time passed on.

"No! I mean-of course I care! It's just-" His eyes, blazing, snapped to Mustangs, and seeing a fire in those eyes was honestly such a relief to Mustang, that the fact that the young alchemist stopped mid-sentence took several seconds to register in his mind. They blinked at one another, before they heard the squeak of armor as Alphonse came to his brother's defense. Mustang didn't miss the flinch Edward tried to hide.

"My brother does care, Colonel Mustang. You know that as much as I do." His hands moved in rhythm to his speaking, "please…" his armor shook, as if he were crying, pleading for something that Mustang couldn't even place. Still, it made him pause.

He looked between the younger Elric brother and the older, once again unable to hold back a defeated sigh. "Look," he began, treading carefully, "I know that you are scared, Edward." He watched as his subordinate listened carefully, his brow furrowing in slight disbelief, or perhaps denial, "but if an infection spreads throughout your body, you could die. C'mon, you're smart enough to know that."

"Don't patronize me, Bastard, I'm well aware of the risks." Edward growled out quietly.

"Then why are-"

"I've already talked to you about it," came the response, still with downcast eyes, his jaw visibly clenching. Mustang's own eyes narrowed as he thought back. The boy had told him about his fear concerning the automailist, or rather, what needed to be done, and Mustang tried his best to sympathize with the alchemist; but with his life on the line, such as it was, he could see no other option but forcing the issue. His heart clenched a little bit at the strained atmosphere, but nonetheless came to a decision.

Nodding slightly to himself, Mustang let out a short sigh before looking Edward in the eyes. Well, he would be if his subordinate would actually look up at him."Look, Edward," he began after some contemplation, "every one of us, myself included, have been worried about your well-being and doing our best to work around your feelings; because yes, you should feel safe and in control of your surroundings. But if you won't let Winry, or the doctor for that matter, do their job in keeping you alive, you will lose that privilege of having yours feelings catered to." Edward looked up in shock, and Mustang gained a little more confidence to continue, "All of us on the team care about you, Edward. So, we're going to save your life whether you want us to or not. You get to choose how much control you have of this process, but if you fight us, you're not going to have any choice." _Once this is over with, Edward. Once your automail is taken care of, I promise, we won't force you to do anything you don't want to do!_ His silent promise, he knew, was contradictory to what he just informed his young subordinate; but regardless, he meant every silent word.

Watching his injured charge, Mustang could see the battle raging in Edwards' eyes, the young alchemist digesting his words. But to Mustang, it was almost a relief. Somewhere, deep inside, Edward was still Edward. Now all they had to do was help him feel like he could be himself again. Piece of cake, right? Still, it was a little disconcerting that his subordinate wasn't automatically yelling obscene profanities at him, and Mustang prayed that one day, the kid whom he had been working with since he was twelve would appear again.

* * *

Winry's arrival was drawing near. The clock ticked, grating on his ears, and Edward couldn't help notice that with every passing second, his heart beat just a little quicker. His stomach twisted in knots, leaving him feeling like he wanted to throw up what little contents he had left in his stomach.

Mustang had left him with much to think about, and little time to dissect. Winry would be at the hospital shortly, and no matter how much he told himself it would be okay, he was terrified that if he allowed her to work on him, he'd suddenly wake up from this dream only to find himself still strapped against that damned chair, unable to defend himself. Unable to fend off that horrible woman and her cronies, and unable to fend off his look-alike and all that he wanted to do to Ed. He shuddered at the thought. What would he do if he found out this was all a dream? How was he going to cope with that knowledge?

Still… he couldn't get that look out of his mind. The look of desperate determination that the Bastard Colonel had worn. Despite how brash Mustang had been towards him, Edward was grateful for the man. After all, if it weren't for the bastard Colonel, he'd never have been found. He had been found right? He wasn't making it up? There was no way his imagination could have made up that kind of look that Mustang had, right? _What would he do?_ Ed's eyes flashed in panic at the thought, its cycle never ending in his brain. It wasn't until he heard a metallic "Brother", that Ed realized he'd closed his eyes and was seeing nothing but darkness. Tiny beads of sweat had begun to form on his forehead and Ed turned his tense gaze towards the one person that anchored him in reality.

As was, by now, routine, Alphonse cautiously raised a hand.

"It's okay, Brother, this is all real. I'm real! Well… as real as a soul in armor can be," Alphonse laughed half-heartedly and Edward gave him a small, pained smile, accepting what he'd been told. He could hear the heart monitor following in line with his heartbeat, the beeping slowing as his heart slowed. He scoffed quietly.

"I'm so pathetic," He muttered, laying his head against the pillow. His eyes hurt, and he was sure that the lack of sleep wasn't helping any.

"What are you talking about?" Alphonse spoke up, slightly spooking him, "you're not pathetic at all, Brother! None of this is your fault at all." Edward only peeked an eye at his brother, contemplating what he should say in return. Silence, however, was all he could come up with.

"Alphonse, I can't even-" He abruptly cut off his sentence as a nurse walked into the room. Edward could appreciate her casual demeanor, as if she wasn't afraid he was going to burst out in fright; but even then, the mere fact that she wasn't cautious in his presence made him wonder if, perhaps, she was working for _them_ too? He watched her like a hawk, absolutely silent, curling in on himself. The delicate steps she took rang loudly in Ed's ears and he couldn't help the mild trembling a pair of high heels deigned to remind him. As if he needed any reminders of _her_ to begin with. A small clang of armor rang loudly in Ed's ears and he nearly jumped out of his skin, only to glance guiltily at his brother who had snapped him out of his terrible musings.

"Brother… she's only here to make sure your vitals are fine. She can't do anything to you, especially since I'm here."

Edward wanted to protest. _He_ was supposed to be the one to protect his younger brother. It should have been _him_ reassuring Alphonse that no harm would come to him. The pained reminder gripped his heart, and Edward clenched his teeth, looking away from Alphonse. How could he claim to protect his brother when, even still, he was of no use? All he did was worry Alphonse. Even before everything had happened to him, before he was taken, Alphonse worried about his health. All because Edward had yet to find a solution to get their bodies back.

He was so pathetic.

A depressed aura enveloped him like a sea of water engulfing an entire city. He hunched even further, this time taking no notice as the nurse spoke to Alphonse and walked out of the room. How could he even face Winry? He'd let her down so many times, what would she think of him? She'd think he was an idiot, that's what!

"Alphonse, I don't know if I can do this," Edward confided, wishing he didn't have to lose face in front of his brother; but who else was there? He knew one thing for certain, though. Without a doubt, Edward was going to make sure Alphonse didn't have to watch him while Winry worked on his automail. He couldn't let Al see him like that.

"Sure you can, Nii-san. You've got everyone rooting for you, and waiting here just in case you need anything. They won't let anyone hurt you, and neither will I." Edward watched his brother with small surprise, but that soon led to a small smile. Even if his mind protested that that was what he should have been saying to Alphonse instead of the other way around.

It wasn't too soon after that, that the door opened. This time, both Edward and Alphonse jumped in response, not expecting the quiet action. In walked Mustang, whose countenance still held a sheen of hesitance, followed by a mellower, but still starry, Major Armstrong. Edward waited with baited breath as he knew just who, exactly, the next person to enter was.

Winry walked in, eyes closed in exasperation, wrench ready to wield. "Edward Elric, what in the world have you done to my precious automail this ti-" Winry's rebuke was instantly wiped away at the sheepish look Ed couldn't help give her. At least… that's what he hoped her pause was for. Honestly, he was in such a sorry state, he was sure his hopes were all in vein. Naturally, as with any new person that Edward came across these days, Winry's expression went from an instinctive shock, to a worried frown. Something not uncommon from any of the other's Ed had recently encountered.

"I…" was all Winry could say, before Mustang took the time to speak.

"As you can see, Winry, Edward is in need of your assistance." Edward watched his superior officer, uncertain. The way the man held himself worried Ed. Because really, the man could be another hallucination in the form of his look-a-like, or that disgusting sidekick of his. The idea terrified him. What if they all came to watch while they tortured him? A tentatively light pressure was place on his forehead (seemingly the only place _not_ messed up by those sadists), and the massive, rubbery feel was, notably, enough to bring Edward back to the present. He blinked, shocked at himself for losing focus so quickly, though by this point not surprised. Only embarrassed. Ashamed. Winry shouldn't be seeing him like this. Ed looked away, eyes squeezed tight biting his lip.

Too much was happening all at once. Edward couldn't take the looks, nor could he handle the pity that they sent his way. How was he supposed to cope with this? Blood rushed through his ears, and the only sound Ed could hear was like a waterfall, blazing its presence. He curled further in on himself, practically hunching together like two pieces of bread with nothing in-between.

"I can't do it," he mumbled to himself, cursing the words from ever escaping his lips.

"What was that, Brother?" Alphonse hunkered down to hear him, but Ed snapped his eyes open, realizing what he'd said. He masked his features the best he could before he looked at the tiled floor by the other occupants of the room.

"Just… do what you gotta do." He finally said a little louder.

"Ed, I-" The wobble in Winry's voice was enough to snap his eyes up at her and Ed nearly lost his own composure. Though tears had yet to actually fall, they were most certainly gushing up in the corners of her eyes. Panic filled him and Ed, for a short moment, completely forgot his troubles.

"Ah, don't cry, Winry. This is nothing but a scratch. Though… you're probably pretty mad about the automail thing. Which wasn't my fault! I swear! Well, I guess it kinda was; after all, there _was_ fighting and everything, but I would have stopped it if I could! But I guess I say that practically every time, huh? But I swear it, this time!" By now, Ed was rambling and his words began slurring together at the end. Winry's lip wobbled and she slowly walked up to Edward, who watched her carefully. He hated himself that he was even worried what Winry, _of all people_ , would do to him. Fixing his automail was one thing, but not since he'd first tried his hand at human transmutation had Edward been so defenseless. Well, that was a lie, technically his most defenseless time came from that cellar of hell. It gave him an incessant need to watch anyone who came close to him like a hawk. Despite knowing full well the kind of person Winry was, Ed still caught himself swallowing nervously, licking his lips.

"You big dummy, Ed!" Winry finally said as she walked next to the headboard, close to Ed's automail shoulder. She raised a hand as she spoke. And if she noticed Ed's flinch and squeeze of his eyes, she said nothing about it. Instead, Ed was surprised to find that same hand, empty of the wrench it usually carried, softly caress his automail port. He soon opened his eyes to watch her, frozen in his spot, as she inspected where the port had been roughly pulled against his shoulder, away from the bone. Traced the edges of the bandages, and slowly made her way down his damaged automail. He watched her, almost entranced to see tears now falling freely down her face.

Winry sniffled, before moving her eyes to his nearly useless leg. Ed bit his lip. She was allowed to see his automail leg, but he absolutely did _not_ want her to see the damage his flesh had taken. She'd seen enough. No need to traumatize her even further. When she moved to take away the blanket off both his legs, Ed panicked.

"Don't-!" He cried out, forgetting that he still had a body in need of healing. He gasped in pain as his stretched fingers protested beneath the bandages. Movement irritating his ports, and opening scabs that littered his arms and back. He hissed, immediately withdrawing, holding his arm close. Winry had stopped what she was doing, shocked by the outburst and outcome and confusion marred her features when it was Mustang who rushed to his aid.

"Take a deep breath, Fullmetal." He said calmly, staying close by but not making a move to touch him. Edward glanced into his superior officer's face, focusing on the words, allowing the pain to ebb into a dull ache. Unfortunately, they couldn't give him another dose of pain medication as there hadn't been enough time in-between the last dose. It was probably for the best, anyway, as Winry needed him to stay conscious to make sure his ports connected correctly; though considering that probably wouldn't be for at least another few days (by which he was grateful for) he thought he should have his damn pain killers.

He glanced down at the bed sheets, mind racing a million miles. _C'mon, Ed! Pull yourself together! Winry doesn't need to see you so weak_. He managed a grimace of a smile before he looked up, his eyes finding his childhood friends.

"Sorry, Winry. It's, uh… it's cold so… I didn't want both my legs to be out of the warmth." He held his gaze with hers fiercely, forcing himself to not look away. Though she didn't look convinced, Winry finally replied.

"Sure, Ed." She slowly walked towards him again, having been frightened away. Ed didn't acknowledge the clench of his heart knowing he had scared her, and ignored the fact that the clenching had something to do with how quickly she approached him; and not in the good way, either. His heart beat wildly as Mustang moved out of the way for her to take his place. She had glassy eyes from fresh tears. "Well, I… looking at all the damage done to your automail - heinous fiends who could do this to such beautiful works of art!" Here, she muttered the last bit, clenching a fist to the lower air as she did so, "I'm going to need a couple days to fix both your arm and leg before they can be reattached." The other occupants in the room, Winry included, watched Ed with baited breath to see what he would say. But what could he say? What did they want from him, exactly? Did they want him to be okay with what he was going to have to go through? Honestly, even without being tortured by that sick wannabe, having his nerves connected to the automail was always the worst part. Always something he had to gear himself up for.

"Not surprised. You are an awesome mechanic, after all." He finally said; and it gave him a few more days to gear up for the reattachments. He leaned back onto the bed slowly, closing his eyes as he did so. The image of a surprised Winry burned in his mind.

* * *

With a start, Ed's eyes popped open. He felt disoriented for a minute before he remembered that he was in a hospital room. The last thing he remembered was having people there, carefully watching his every move. Now, he glanced to his right to see that the sun had set and night had taken its claim over the earth; and he was left alone. Moonlight drifted in through the thin white drapes covering his window and allowed Ed enough light to make out images of his hospital room. Noticing the flowers sitting in the vase on the table, Ed remembered what Major Armstrong had said; and he'd been damn right. The room was indeed dull without the color of the flowers. Not that he could see the color very well.

Wind rattled the window and Ed jumped at its sound, carefully gazing at the still drapes. He coulda sworn he'd heard something. As he stared, the wind blew once again, carrying with it the sound of laughter that sounded eerily like Macabé's. His heart started pumping. Suddenly, his room didn't seem so safe. Ed tried to think back on his rescue, but honestly, he'd been out of it most of the time. He briefly remembered seeing Mustang's face but he couldn't remember much else.

He continued to stare at the window, not daring to look into the darkness that was the rest of his room. "C'mon Ed, don't be an idiot. There's nothing there in the dark! You're not afraid of the dark!" But the more that he told himself he wasn't afraid of the dark, the quicker and easier his thoughts conjured up voices and images. He coulda sworn that out of the corner of his eye, he saw Macabé, leering his gaze over Edward's scratched up body, lingering on area's that any normal man wouldn't think about. He bit his lip, afraid to look. Again, Macabé's laugh echoed in tune with the wind. _Once you know a man, little Ed, you can never go back._ Ed twitched, remembering the man's wandering hands. _You'll see a woman,_ came the whisper, _and beg her to use you the way a man would._ Ed firmly clamped his eyes shut, willing desperately for the voice to go away, praying the monster wouldn't pop out of the darkness. _Right here, here, and-_

The sound of the hospital door twisting jolted Ed from his thoughts, only to leave a new fear to who was entering the room. To his immense relief, Alphonse quickly and quietly shuffled in, as if making his best effort not to awaken Ed. He had to smile as he watched his brother slowly close the door, hardly making a sound in the process. Directly after that, his head turned and he gasped in surprise.

"Brother, you're awake!"

"I… yeah. I am."

"Are you okay?" Edward blinked at the question. _Was_ he okay?

"I'm fine now, Al. Thanks" He gave his best smile, though Alphonse didn't seem convinced. He dropped the act. "It was just a nightmare, Alphonse. I'll be okay, now." Alphonse watched him, seeming to stare straight into his soul. Though his body was a suit of armor, Ed swore he could see the emotion's Alphonse was putting out, and at the moment, he seemed disbelieving. " _Really_ , Al. You don't need to worry about me. I'm the big brother after all."

Alphonse didn't say anything. He simply stood there, watching Ed, before sighing and walking up to the chair closest to Ed and sat on it.

"If you were feeling really scared, you'd tell me. Right?" The blatant question surprised Ed and he had to stop and think about it for a minute. It used to be that Ed told Alphonse everything. But that was before. Before everything happened to him. Edward was the older brother. He was meant to protect Alphonse. He was the one who needed to be strong for Al, and there were things that he absolutely could not let Alphonse know about. Especially because… because… well, Edward was too ashamed to speak of what had happened. Too embarrassed; and because of that, there was no way he could express out loud the horror's he'd faced. Not when it could shake the very foundation of Alphonse's perception of him. No… he couldn't destroy the way his little brother looked at him. If not for Al's sake than for his own. Edward couldn't handle it if his very own brother pitied him. That would just be… well.

"You know, Al. You're my younger brother. The only family I've got." He paused, "of course I tell you stuff. I can't just, not, ya know?" That wasn't a lie. Edward always told Alphonse stuff about how he'd been feeling or if he'd had a nightmare. This time, however, he simply omitted the fact that he would never reveal the time he'd spent in that prison. Alphonse could come to his own conclusions based on the cuts and bruises he'd sustained, but if Ed were to go into detail… that was only going to be the one time.

The report.

"Sure; yeah." Alphonse replied unconvinced but fell silent anyway. Ed watched him closer. Al seemed to have more on his mind than wanting reassurance from him. Ed's eyes narrowed.

"Spit it out, Al."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Look, I can tell that something is bothering you, s-so just say it." Whatever it was, Ed would have to face it anyway. Didn't matter that whatever Al was holding back scared him a little. Alphonse looked away from his face, opting to stare at the floor tiles instead.

"Okay… well. It's just… you fell asleep before Winry could finish everything she needed to do." Ed's eyebrows furrowed,

"What do you mean? I-I thought all she needed to do was fix my automail and reattach them?"

"Well, yeah, but that's not all she needs to do." Alphonse hesitated once more before speaking, "she said she needs to fix the nerve-endings on your ports as well as the attachments… especially your leg. There was some significant damage done to them also."

Edward blinked. Then blinked again as he turned his gaze towards his covered legs. He didn't remember there being _that_ much damage done to his automail. Well, he remembered that lunatic fake trying his hardest to remove the ports off his body. That was most definitely a hellish sort of pain. But beyond the small tinkering to the insides that felt similar to pinpricks...? Oh. _Oh_.

"Heh… _asshole_." Ed muttered, turning his head away from Alphonse.

"...She also said you'd need to be awake for that too."

"And by that you mean… no pain medication."

"Yeah."

Silence reigned in the room. Edward stared at the heart monitor, wishing pain to the highest degree on those dumbass imbeciles.

"D-did she, ah, say when she would need to do that surgery?" He finally asked, afraid of the answer, but still wanting to know.

"Yeah. She said she'd come by later tomorrow, in the afternoon. Colonel Mustang said he'd be back from the office by then as well." Ed whipped his head towards Alphonse, surprised.

"Mustang's not here?" He nearly choked on the words, ignoring the tiny squeak that escaped onto the end of his question. Alphonse, clearly having heard the cursed squeal, hesitated. But Ed wouldn't let it go. The idea that Mustang wasn't there… it bothered him more than he thought it would.

"No, he's not." Alphonse finally answered, "he said he had to go home to get some rest and a shower. That there are some things he needs to do at the office." He paused for only a moment, "but Lieutenant Hawkeye said she'll be here in the morning! And currently Sergeant Fuery is here, resting in the waiting area. I could bring him here if you wanted."

"No! No… i-it's fine. He doesn't need to come in here. Besides, it's still pretty late. It'd be pretty dumb to wake him just to have him fall asleep in here." Ed's efforts of hiding his nervousness from Alphonse didn't really seem to be doing much. Curse his stuttering! It gave everything away, and he did _not_ need the Bastard Colonel to know that not having his presence here made him more wary. _It's because you're such a slut, little Eddy_. Words filtered into his mind. Imaginary hands touching him. He trembled and the sickening pit at the bottom of his stomach was back.

The sound of armor moving brought Ed's awareness back to the dark hospital room, and instantly, Ed was grateful that Alphonse was still here. He swallowed. But reminders of everything made him remember that he wanted to talk to Alphonse.

"Hey Al,"

"What is it, Nii-san?"

"I… when the time comes for Winry to… just… don't stay in the room. Okay?"

Alphonse gazed at him for a good moment, contemplating what he'd said. Ed could feel his protest like a balloon about to burst and waited for it to be voiced.

"Okay."

"What" Ed's eyes whipped to Al's, surprised.

"Okay. I'll leave the room while you have your ports reattached." Alphonse rested his elbows on his knees. "But you must know that I can be straight back in the room the second you call for me. If you need help, I'll be there to give it. 'Kay?"

Edward stared at his brother a minute, surprised by how easily Al went with his wishes. He really thought he'd need to convince his otouto that he was fine: Yet here his brother was, all too willing to accept what Ed was asking without asking any questions of his own. Alphonse really was incredible. He half smiled.

"Get some rest, Brother. You'll need it."

"Yeah, but not for at least another day." Ed pouted, only half joking. Honestly, sleep didn't come easily for him these days and when he _did_ sleep, it was all nightmares. At least, those he remembered, which was more often than not.

* * *

 **A/N: So... Heeeeeeeeeeeeey... sup? Long time no see! I've been away a while, eh? I have no excuses except for how much I've gone over this second half and grumbled about it. lol it was super hard for me to write for some reason. But I got it up! So... I hope you enjoy it in all its angstyness, 'cause... it has a lot of that... hah.**

 **Thank you to AlexandraGaler, Kas3y, Jasmine Star, GunsAndMagic, and my lovely guest who reviewed! Your reviews are what made me want to get this out before the year was up! (I can't believe that it took so long to get this chapter out... oi... i'm so sorry to you all... that's just nuts! You're all so amazing for reviewing!) And thank you to everyone who favorited and followed! You make me so happy :D**

 **But yeah... Please Read and Review! I really love them. lol in case you couldn't tell.**


	16. Chapter 13 Part 1

**Surprise! I guess waiting a couple months is a theme of mine, eh? I'm sorry about that! I've dreamed of writing these chapters since I started writing and now that I'm finally here, it's a lot harder to pull it out of my brain than you'd think. When I go and edit this story (which I definitely will, I love this story) I'll fix it, but my dear readers, you're all amazing. You deserve at least this first half of this chapter! Yay! Thank you soooooooo much to all who reviewed! Knowing I have people who still read this... I had to get this out even if it was long overdo from when I really wanted to post it. xD Anyway... on to the story!**

* * *

It was surprising to Alphonse how rarely people came to him for advice. Through the course of being a 7 foot tall hunk of armor, while many people carefully watched him out of the corner of their eyes as he passed them by, very little did they come up and ask him his opinion about some such or another. Even though he was often mistaken for a grown-up due to his forced size; seldom was he asked his thoughts on any matter. Despite being considered a genius for his age.

So it was surprising to find how many people were suddenly asking him his opinion.

"How is he?"

"Do you think we should approach him like this?"

"What do you suggest?"

"What can we do to help Edward get better?"

"Should we bring him some milk?"

"Alphonse, you know him best, so please… what should we do?"

Okay, so the opinions they wanted were all about his older brother, but that was beside the point. This particular late morning, Alphonse stood in the waiting room, feeling more awkward than he had in awhile. People who were hard core fans of the famed Hero of the People had come to visit the alchemist only to be denied access to his room. Thus, without the satisfaction of getting to witness their beloved hero themselves, they turned to the second source who would, probably, have the most facts. At least, the one who was currently in the waiting room.

As much as Alphonse felt grateful to know so many people cared about his brother, he wished they had enough decency to give him and his brother some privacy.

"When can we see him?" Said one man, crowding into his space

"C'mon, we wanna know what happened!" Another woman whined,

"He's our hero! We have a right to know," Determined another.

At one point, a few people standing further in the background of the congregated group whispered among themselves, though Alphonse could hear them quite clearly.

"Wait… but I thought he was the Fullmetal Alchemist?" Their eyes glancing in his direction made it obvious who they thought the Fullmetal Alchemist was.

"No no, that's his brother. The _real_ Fullmetal Alchemist is actually super short!"

"Psh, there's no way."

"Yes, huh! I've met him before, so I would know!" The conversation was getting slightly louder the more the two argued, but Alphonse turned his attention away from them. He was often mistaken as his brother so their conversation wasn't that big of a surprise. However, the pressing comments from those closer to him were more concerning.

"...Agree, we should know what's been going on. We've got a right to know!"

"Yeah!" Another chimed in.

"What is the military trying to hide exactly?" A man accused.

"Seriously! Are they trying to deceive us?"

Irritation filtered through Alphonse's soul, glaringly bright against his surprise towards all those wanting to visit his brother. Did the citizens of Amestris show up at the hospital because they thought they had a right to know about his brother's condition? Just because of his position in the military? That did not sit well with Al at all, but because he was currently alone in the waiting room (everyone else had gone to grab something to eat, while Winry had gone to Lieutenant Hawkeye's home the previous night to fix up and redo the automail for his brother) Alphonse wasn't sure how to go about kicking everyone out of the hospital. Could he even do that?

Currently, he was backed into the corner of the waiting room, next to the window. Outside, he could see other citizens, some carrying signs that he couldn't quite make out, others were yelling to passersby, while others paced their spots. He wondered what they were protesting. If it was even a protest.

Al's head whipped around as a recognizable voice carried over the drum of angry ones, "What in the world?" Havoc bellowed loudly, despite the unlit cigarette in his mouth. Next to him, a frowning Mustang looked on with narrowed eyes and behind them both, Alphonse could make out Lieutenant Hawkeye and a wide eyed Winry, with her automail luggage and all. Relief instantly flooded Alphonse's thoughts, tremendously glad he was no longer alone. He had honestly meant to go to his brother's room when everyone had left, but had gotten distracted when a few citizens walked into the lobby, speaking about Edward.

He'd initially been curious as to what they were all saying about Ed, and so had stayed to precariously listen in on the conversation. It all went downhill after that, leading Alphonse to be in the position he was in by that point.

Watching as Colonel Mustang walked further into the room, Alphonse worried that hearing all the comments would drive the man over the edge as Mustang currently had the look of daggers.

"Enough!" The man roared, temper flaring as wildly as the flames he uses, "I want all civilians out. Now!" Silence reigned at the outburst, everyone having stopped mid questions to view the Flame Alchemist. Whether or not the people knew that that's who he was, was another question entirely.

The people seemed to have a different idea of what they should be doing.

Seeing as Mustang, Havoc and Hawkeye were all wearing their military uniforms, the three were suddenly bombarded and circled like clowns at a circus, questions bouncing off civilians tongues like slime. Tremendous fury was the only way to describe the Colonel's look. Alphonse would have stared with wide eyes if he'd had a body. He'd not seen the man this angry since the day they rescued Edward.

"I. Said. Out!" Mustang snapped, not bothering to keep a calm facáde. Many of the people, frightened by the Flame Alchemist, promptly exited the waiting area, but a few stragglers still pressed on.

"We deserve to know about our hero! What's going on! I thought he was doing well, and suddenly he's not? What aren't you telling us!" A sandy blonde haired man, nearly the same height as Mustang, demanded.

"It's a conspiracy!" Cried his companion, a woman that barely reached his shoulders. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, though pieces stuck out oddly, as if she'd been running a marathon.

"We want to see Elric!" The sandy blonde got in Mustang's face, either unaware of the colonel's angry face or uncaring and provoking the man on purpose, "Why aren't you doing more to keep our people safe?"

"If you want to know the details," Mustang stepped close to the man, their faces nearly touching, as if he never noticed the hand holding him back by his first lieutenant. "Try reading the newspaper. Now. Leave. Before I decide to incinerate you." The man glared at the Colonel, the two having a stand-off before the man finally backed away towards his companion, who simply looked scared out of her wits.

"Fucking military dogs! Damn liars the lot of you!" They rushed out of the waiting room without a second glance back.

Mustang watched them leave before his attention turned towards Alphonse, who had never left his corner.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that, Alphonse." He stated, unapologetic concerning his actions, despite the warning glances he'd received from Lieutenant Hawkeye. Winry glanced out of the waiting room and back again before hesitantly walking towards Alphonse, a tentative smile on her face. She looked exhausted. Alphonse quickly returned the hug she gave.

"I appreciate you getting rid of them. I wasn't sure what to do." Al said. There was an awkward silence, "So, what was that all about, exactly? Why are there people outside? Are they protester's?" Every occupant of the room looked out the window, viewing the ambitious sign holders whose muffled voices filtered through the window, though none could make out their words. Mustang sighed, swiping a hand over his face before he took a seat on the worn couch.

"Idiots. All of them."

"Many of those people are claiming child abuse from the Military," Havoc piped in amidst Alphonse's shocked cry "Stating that we shouldn't have hired a young boy to become a state alchemist. Despite how promising he was, and despite all the things the chief has done for them." His bitter tone was evident as he leaned against the wall near the door.

"S-so, what will happen to Ed?" Winry asked, standing close to Alphonse who never left his spot. Alphonse glanced down at his childhood friend. She must have been going through a rough time too, considering she'd had to remake Ed's automail and was going to have to take a look at the nerve damage that was done - fix everything that had been messed with at the ports. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It's much too soon to know for certain," Hawkeye, who had moved to stand next to her sitting Colonel, spoke up, having taken a liking to the ground before looking Winry in the eyes, "We have Edward's kidnappers in custody, but with the civil unrest, this has the potential to become much bigger than it is."

Al's soul flopped, "What could that mean for Brother? He's not going to lose his position as a state alchemist, is he?"

Silence reigned in the room, enough to make one feel claustrophobic from its deafening lull. Alphonse's heart would have dropped down to the pit of his stomach if he'd had his real body. Their silence wasn't an answer he was hoping to receive. Looking at Winry, Alphonse could tell she wasn't too happy at the lack of an answer either and briefly wondered how their childhood friend would react to Edward's obvious display of fear when she had to really do his surgery.

Alphonse hated to admit it to himself, but the mere idea of if something were to happen to Ed's position as a state alchemist filled him with dread. With the added time to finding a way to get their bodies back, a part of him thought it might not be worth it to continue on. Already, the idea of living his whole life in the suit of armor until the armor gave out or until his soul was rejected made Al feel slightly panicky.

"Edward is strong," Mustang finally said, confidence exhuming from the statement. He folded his arms across his chest. "And don't worry, your brother has me on his side. I won't let anything bad-" Mustang grimaced at his phrasing, "Anything _more_ happen to him."

"Thank you, Colonel Mustang," Winry said softly, her voice wobbly. Alphonse wondered how long it would stay that way. He wished he knew what to say to her to comfort her, but he felt just a lost as she looked.

"I should get back to Brother. I told him I wouldn't be gone long." And it had already been far longer than Alphonse had intended to be out of the room. He began to worry for his nii-san's sanity. These days, Ed got lost in the darkness of his thoughts too often. It was far worse than mere dreams. An onslaught of guilt rushed through his soul, and Alphonse hunched slightly, depressed. It really was his fault. If he hadn't pushed Edward to go to a doctor's about his insomnia, this whole situation could have been avoided. No one would have to see his brother like this: because Alphonse knew just how much Edward hated feeling weak or having others think he was weak. And the fact of the matter was, no one thought he was weak. Nor could anyone ever come to that conclusion. His brother was as strong as they come, just as Mustang said. He may struggle right then, but he'd overcome this mess.

Alphonse couldn't tell if he was convincing himself enough of this fact.

"I… I need to help Edward fix his ports." Winry said softly, gripping the automail case tightly. Her head was downcast as she spoke, startling Alphonse out of his depressive thoughts. Mustang stood a little straighter, his eyes glinting, determined resignation taut around the corners. Hawkeye's presence behind the Colonel held an aura of sadness, leaving Alphonse wishing she would portray the evident strength of her determined will instead, as he was used to its comfort. Even the usually grinning Second Lieutenant Havoc had a contemplative frown on his face.

"Well, there's no time like the present." Mustang finally said to the uncomfortable silence. They all looked at one another, as if waiting for the first person to move. No one really wanted to be a part of the agony that was awaiting them in the alchemist's room. Not that Alphonse was able to even if he wanted to. The promise he'd made with his brother was not one he would deny Ed. As much as it pained him to stay out of the room (especially since Winry was going to be in the room, right in the thick of it) Alphonse would respect his brother's wishes. At least, until he cried out for Al.

* * *

Edward's heart was beating a little faster as he stared towards the door. Alphonse had left the room hardly more than twenty minutes previous, yet he watched it like a hawk. If there was anyone else besides the nurse that entered the door that he did not recognize, Edward would scream. Scream and run. That is to say, scream and _crawl_ as he didn't have an arm or leg at the moment. Winry had taken those away what he was sure had to have been a few days ago, and Edward felt so helpless without them. With it being so long since he'd last seen her, he began to wonder if he had been tricked into giving up his automail. But then, even that didn't make sense. The wannabe nor his cronies had no idea how to remove his automail. Unless they were able to wiggle the directions out of him - which Ed seriously doubted - that meant that it had to have been Winry. It must've been when he was unconscious. Edward hated to admit the relief that flooded his being at that thought. If he didn't have to go through the unclenching of his automail, then that was perfectly fine with him.

No. What was causing the heart palpitations was the mere idea of his nerves being tinkered with once again. The empty space where his automail arm and leg had been shared a foreboding future for the broken alchemist. His eyes were unblinking, aching from needing proper sleep, but unwilling to do the action of staying closed.

Since waking up to no automail, Edward dreamt of the crazy ex-doctor and his pills. Of being trapped against that metal chair, unable to move, while they sliced him open, leaving him to the disasters and infections of that dirty room. Howl's of the tortured animal's crying in the background. Sometimes Ed saw that beautiful cat, cowering in a corner, before his captor's would come and torturously murder the poor creature. Over and Over. Of the screams of a little girl he'd never seen only to morph into a distorted, mangled, Nina and Alexander. Worse than the actual creature they'd become, because his dreams conjured the injuries to coincide with the experiment. Every time, Ed would wake up with tears streaming down his face and Alphonse nearby, repeating over and over that it'd be okay. That he was safe.

Occasionally, Edward noted that it was Mustang, and not Alphonse, in the room. The times this happened made him wonder just how often he fell asleep, and how often he was put into an induced sleep. He hated it. Hated being stuck in a hospital where doctors could do whatever they wanted to him. If it wasn't for Alphonse, Edward was sure that he'd never let a doctor touch him. That was how much he feared being put under without actually being asleep. It'd happened so often. Even if he had his brother to console him, everything was too close to the surface. Too new and raw to-

Ed snapped out of his thoughts when the door opened. The monitor raced along with his heart and never completely stilled as he watched his superior confidently walk in, followed by Hawkeye, a downcast looking Winry (he felt a pang at the sight of her), and lastly Havoc, who gave him a timid smile in return to his stare. Ed quickly looked down at his blanket, his grip tightening as much as he possibly could with recovering fingers. Needless to say, the pressure was very slight. Ed vigilantly watched as Mustang walked up to him while the other's stood at the edge of the bed. He didn't move, though his eyes clearly stated "stay back!"

"Edward," Mustang began, "Winry has fixed your automail." Ed's tired eyes travelled towards his mechanic, and she shifted uncomfortably under his stare. His's mouth felt dry at the sight. He knew what was waiting for him beyond that case she held, and it definitely wasn't anything pretty.

He swallowed. Licked his lips. Glanced at Mustang's gaze which, if Ed didn't know any better, he would've said that they seemed to soften as they beheld his fright.

Irritated by this thought (because he wasn't weak. _He wasn't!_ He didn't need anyone's pity) Ed moved his eyes from his superior officers, to once more look into Winry's diamond ones. It was her fright that gave Edward the gumption to face his fear. He took a deep breath, recounted the periodic table, squared his shoulders - as slight as that may have been, then nodded in Winry's direction.

"Alright. I'm ready." Perhaps one of this biggest lies he ever told himself, but Ed was unwilling to admit that to anyone. Immediately, everyone jumped to action. They pulled the bed forward, pressed the button that would lay Edward's bed completely flat, and moved out of Winry's way.

Regardless of the fact that the heart monitor gave away the status his heartbeat was in, Edward still felt embarrassed by his fear. By the obvious shaking of his body. Never before had he felt so terrified of the procedure. Not even the first time that he'd gotten automail. At the time, all he could think about was Alphonse. _Al!_ His thoughts snapped to attention, and, amidst Winry's preparation, Edward frantically moved his head until he spotted Mustang.

"Alphonse! What about Al! Where is he? Is he okay? I shouldn't be here. I need to be searching for the philosopher's stone! I have to go. Why am I even still at this damn hospital!" He tried sitting up, but found that his shoulders were being held down by none other than Mustang himself. His eyes filled with betrayal as he looked into the man's coal black eyes. "Wh-what're you doing?" He struggled against the hands holding his shoulders back. Mustang on one side, Hawkeye coming to his aid on the other.

"Calm down, Fullmetal." Came Mustang's quiet, but firm order. Edward furrowed his brow. "Alphonse is fine. He's just outside the door. You need to stay alert so Winry can connect your automail back. But she needs to adjust the nerves on your ports so that nothing goes wrong."

In his mild panic, Edward had forgotten that his childhood friend was even in the room. He looked her way: saw how frightened her eyes became, her posture held close, hands clenched tight against her chest. Ashamed that he nearly lost himself, Edward looked away, shutting his eyes tight. "Sorry," He mumbled. _That's right._ Alphonse was just outside the door like they had talked about before. Edward had asked his younger brother to not be in the room, and Alphonse gave in to his selfish desires. Edward was the older brother. He needed to be strong for his younger brother. That was how it worked. That's right.

"I-it's okay, Ed." Winry responded, softly. Edward heard the soft rustling of her body moving closer to him. Felt the static that came between the two as she drew nearer. It was like his entire body was so acutely aware of her proximity he flinched when he felt her hand touch his automail port, his chest quickly rising and falling with his haggard breathing. _Don't worry little Eddy_ a voice demanded _you'll like it._ Edward gasped, his eyes popping open at the unwanted thoughts. A leering face; crooked teeth from his twisted smile. Blurry images of blobs. Trying to focus on what was in front of him with little success. It had been a nightmare, and he did _not_ want to go back there.

"It's okay, Ed!" Edward dimly heard. "You're safe!" The words seemed so far away that he almost believed they were a figment of his imagination. Though he wasn't struggling, his breathing was erratic, and he could feel sweat falling down his face, mingling with newly formed tears.

"I'm so sorry," A woman's voice: Winry's, pleaded forgiveness. Her voice wobbled in the distance, but Edward hardly registered what his childhood friend was saying. Time seemed to move like a snail, then finally Winry's whimpering voice was warning him, "I need to connect the ports now, Ed. I'm so sorry. I promise, it's almost over."

Edward bit his already blistered lip, hard.

He tasted iron.

He nodded his consent, his eyes squeezed shut, terrified.

He'd been through this so many times! How could he be so scared? But as soon as the automail were fit against his ports, his heartbeat raced higher than before, and Edward could tell he was losing sight of this reality. But he had no words to express his horror. Fear was a monster that held him by the throat, smothering the words; so they were just a wet lump at the back of his vocal chords.

The second the blonde haired automail engineer went in for the switch, Ed hardly registered that both his leg and arm were being done at the same time. Who could have been the one to help his childhood friend cinch automail to ported nerves, Ed would never know as the hushed tones of Mustang's voice were swallowed up like an ant drowning in water. Ed's wild eyes saw the room. His cell. Felt the overpowering ache in his head from being flipped backwards in the chair and slamming against concrete; shackles digging into his skin, reawakening the pain from the still raw wound on his shin. Newer wounds cracked and pulled against his skin, trickling blood down his calves. The smell of cigar smoke and alcohol were potent against his sense of smell, and suddenly he could see the crazed eyes of Blaire, his face so close, Ed could've gone cross-eyed. The man grabbed a bunch of his hair, pulling tight. _Tell me, little Eddy, what's it feel like to be unable to move?_ His alcoholic breath suffocated Ed.

Ed heard the chortle more than saw it. His eyes had closed to try and block out the ugly sight. _Oh who am I kidding? As if you can answer right now_. The calloused thumb rubbed against Ed's temple almost tenderly despite how tight the grip was.

Then, Ed could feel the stark coolness of metal, rubbing across his cheek. He would've flinched if he hadn't been forced motionless. Regardless of how still he was made to be, His terrified eyes seemed to spurn the man on. _I'd just_ love _to see what expression you'd make with only your eyes if I could cut up your face, but that privilege is for that beautiful bitch of yours. So, your arms will have to do._ Unstoppable tears trickled down Ed's face, even as the man demeaningly wiped them away.

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 **So... there you have it. Part 1! I'm notoriously good at doing that. xD Anyway... what'd ya'll think? Please Read and Review! It truly helps me want to get chapters out even more than I already do. I know I'm kinda bad at it, but... yeah... xD ya'll are still amazing for reading this!**

 **By the way, I'm gonna start recommending awesome Fullmetal fanfics because, well... they're awesome. xD**

 **O** **ne ya'll should definitely read is called:**

 **The 36 Kidnappings of Edward Elric -** Being such an important person to the military and to the country, Edward Elric the Fullmetal Alchemist is a common target for kidnappers. So how does it happen? Does he manage to escape each time? Or does he wait for his rescuers? 36 one-shots where Ed gets kidnapped. Parental!RoyEd included. Rated T for violence and other stuff. **It's not completed, but hilarious and definitely worth the read!**

 **The other is called:**

 **Stairway to Paradise by Rainflame -** COMPLETE! Ed has been MIA for months, and when Roy finally finds him, he is blind and more than just physically injured. With the State honorably discharging him, and no father to speak of, Roy has no choice but to care for the boy and try to put the pieces back together. Parental!Roy. Rating for injury and violence, just to be safe. **Similar vibe to my story. It's what made me start to write Fullmetal fanfic! Definitely worth the read!**


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